Grasping the Moon
by IcantbelieveImdoingthis
Summary: Gary returns to Kanto for the last leg of his bloody journey, only to find it has changed more than he could have guessed.
1. Home Again

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Pokémon. If I did, I'd be rich. But I don't, and I'm not, so please don't sue me Nintendo.

Grasping the Moon

Chapter 1 – Home Again

A Spearow circled over the trees with disciplined patience. Hunting was slow work these days, especially so close to Mount Moon, but if he let up his vigilance a moment, he would go to sleep hungry again tonight – but even as he considered the thought, he saw something emerge foolishly from the light brush below. A Caterpie.

With a shrill cry, the Spearow swooped in and snatched the exposed bug from the ground with his beak. The Caterpie struggled intensely, so the Spearow landed on a tree and beat it against the trunk until it went still. Satisfied with his catch, the Spearow heard a rustle from just behind, and decided to take off to enjoy his meal in private.

The undergrowth below shook and out burst an Eevee, sniffing the ground and looking around intensely. The tiny dog-like creature glanced back to watch his master emerge behind him.

Gary Oak wiped a small branch from out of his face and breathed in a deep breath, one he thoroughly enjoyed. Slapping his face and rubbing his hands down his long grey shirt, he gazed around the plant life, recognising the flora of his homeland, from which he had been absent so many years. Out here in the middle of nowhere, it seemed how it always had, despite how much Kanto as a whole had changed since he had roamed it as a kid. Looking up through the light canopy of trees, Gary could make out the distinct form of Mount Moon not so far away.

"Ha! See that, Eevee?" He exclaimed, as his pokémon scampered up his clothes into his arms. Gary pointed at the peak, proof that they had made it. It glittered with the unnamed energies within it. "Impassable, my foot!"

He looked back over his shoulder to the way he came, over the dense mountains separating Sinnoh in the north and Kanto in the south, long thought to be far too dangerous to cross. Gary had showed them all up though, that's for certain. Looking forward he took in disorganised wildness of the forest, trees lunging over them with hunger, moss and stone paving the ground. It was so good to be home.

Leaping from the nook in his arms, Eevee circled on the ground in front of Gary, squeaking up at him cutely. Gary laughed.

"So, what do you think? Down to Pewter then onto the Plateau to take back what's ours?"

Eevee smiled back up at Gary and darted onward. Adjusting the sword at his side, Gary trotted behind, AK-47 bouncing off his back.

They didn't go terribly far when Gary noticed a Pidgeot circling in the sky. The sight made his eyes narrow. Pokémon that powerful weren't native to this area – it probably belonged to a trainer, and from the way it was circling, it was searching for something. Pidgeots had powerful eyes, so he and Eevee were probably already noticed, but the bird hadn't done a thing about it, implying that they weren't its quarry. That was somewhat comforting – no one should have known the pair was coming.

Eevee had climbed up on a high root to look up at the flying pokémon, but at his master's nod, they both set off again.

Pressing on through the trees for a spell, the pair soon heard voices. They hit a forest track and saw further up that it broadened into something like a clearing, where a group of trainers were engaging in a search, presumably the same as the earlier Pidgeot's.

Slipping closer off-road, Gary noticed they were all armed and wearing feather-based paraphernalia. League trainers. Ducking behind a rock, Gary saw that one – the only decently dressed one in the bunch – was barking orders. The Pallet Trainer smirked at the thought of a fight so soon into his glorious return to Kanto.

He leaned in to Eevee, who was by his face. "How about we start things off with a bang?" Eevee squealed with delight.

Gary broke cover casually and strolled up to the search party. As he approached, he began to pick up the instructions their leader was shouting.

"- every nook and cranny. I swear by everything holy that if we don't find her I'll kill every single one of you! Look behind that rock, you -"

The leader had his back to him, and only turned after all of his grunts had detected the stranger first. They were shocked at his audacity, walking into League business so brazenly – armed, to boot.

One of the trainers, a large, bald man with a feathery headpiece levelled his carbine and addressed the newcomer. "Who are you?"

Gary tried to hide his cocky look, but couldn't. He waved his hand around flippantly. "Oh, just a tourist. What's up?"

The League henchmen glanced at each other suspiciously. A tall man in everyday dress carrying an assault rifle and long sword walking alone in the forest, with his Eevee galloping before his feet? Far too bizarre. Their leader narrowed his eyes and remained silent.

Taking charge in lieu of their leader's instruction, the initial bald thug nodded to the rest, who raised their weapons. "Alright freeze." Gary stopped. "What did you do with the woman?"

Gary was genuinely surprised. "Woman? Isn't this a lot of men to be tracking down one poor girl?"

The League trainers weren't buying his honest ignorance. The bald man raised his carbine to eye-level. "Nice try, rebel. I think we know what happened to her, boss." A couple of pokémon flashed out of their pokéballs. A Far'fetchd, a Pidgeotto… both bird-types.

"What are you, a flying-type club?" Asked Gary, raising his eyes in amusement.

"You have three seconds to drop your weapons and surrender." The safety was flipped.

Unconcerned about his diminishing time, Gary scratched his chin. "Aren't you scared you'll be killing a poor, innocent bystander?"

"Like we care." Answered the bald man, opening fire.

But Gary was already moving. He hid behind a nearby rock as the bullets sprayed impotently over its face. Eevee had leapt forward with incredible agility, moving faster than human eyes could follow, and dodged between the bursts of gunfire.

The small pokémon head-butted the bald man in the stomach with such force that he fell back, blood spraying from his mouth.

This naturally made Eevee the more fearsome target, and the gunmen all focussed their fire on him, hitting their downed comrade in the process. The small dog slipped easily around their clumsy shots and jumped another of them, biting deep into his throat. That grunt could only manage a gargled cry before he surrendered his life.

At this time the Far'fetchd engaged the deceptively cute pokémon. A single swipe with its surprisingly sharp leek was all that it could manage before Eevee ducked around it and tail-whipped his opponent in the beak. There was a telling snap and the Far'fetchd fell limp, never to rise.

The other two gunmen were so distracted that they didn't notice Gary come up behind them. The first was only clued in when Oak drove the point of his sword through his back. The final League trainer turned his rifle, but Gary had taken his skewered comrade's gun and beat him at the draw. As the fourth opponent fell dead to the ground, the pokémon master turned to watch Eevee duck beneath the Pidgeotto's attempt at a peck.

"Eevee, use a thunder-kick."

His pokémon squeaked his approval, and crouched in ready as the Pidgeotto, angered after its master's death, banked around to take another swoop at the tiny dog. As it approached, Eevee started to give off a low noise.

"Eeeeeeeee…" he went, lightning beginning to cackle around his paw. Enough electric power was generated that the dirt at that foot began to shift and churn. As the mad Pidgeotto came in low, Eevee flipped into the air and delivered the attack.

On contact, the kick seemed to explode in light and lightning. The Pidgeotto scream of pain tore through the woods as thousands of volts of electricity ripped through its flesh and organs. Eevee and Pidgeotto landed on the ground at the same time, except Pidgeotto was smoking and probably ready to eat.

Having pulled his blade from the trainer's corpse, Gary and his pokémon turned their attention to the group leader, who had hardly lifted a finger to save his wingmen. He cut a dark figure, long night-black hair falling over one side of his face, leaving only one cruel, eagle-eyed glare. His light Japanese-style garb betrayed no obvious weapon, but the way he stood shouted menace.

"You probably don't remember me." He suddenly started, surprising Gary somewhat. "My name is Falkner. We met in Johto, but here I am the Gym Leader of Viridian City." His hand rose, revealing a pokéball, which he dropped to the ground.

As the ball opened, Gary observed with half-interest a Dodrio emerge. The bird set one of each of his hate-filled faces focused on Gary and Eevee, and the last watching his master. "Viridian City? That gym's a little prestigious for someone of your level." Frankly, he found it a little incredible that he ran into a _Gym Leader_ the very moment he entered the nation.

Falkner snarled. "You know nothing about my level, Gary Oak." The invader was overly pleased that he was recognised. "I don't care how great a trainer you once were, I will kill you and take your head back to Indigo Plateau in triumph."

With a brief gesture, Falkner ordered Dodrio into battle. He charged Eevee directly, and as the small dog bounded to the side, Dudrio lashed out with each of his heads even as he skidded across the dirt path. Eevee bounced and weaved around each snapping beak, but the attacks came in quick sequence, and the puppy gave ground to the Dodrio's rapid advance.

Gary only just looked away from the pokémon to see that his own opponent was already upon him, a thick hunting-knife twirling around his thumb. Leaping back, the knife's keen edge passed just short of his chest, and Gary had hardly a moment to raise his sword defensively before the Flying trainer was on him again, pressing him with equal ferocity to his Dodrio.

Every step back was a hard dodge as Falkner kept slashing with the blade – shaped, in particularly kitsch fashion, like a bird wing. One can't fence with so short a weapon, so steel never met as Gary and Falkner ducked around each other's sweeps and stabs in gymnastic fashion.

Lunging forward aggressively, Falkner attempted to stab into Gary's heart, but the other man proved even spryer than he had previously demonstrated, jerking to the side and snapping up Falkner's knife hand in his own. Gary raised his sword to stab down between shoulder and neck, but the flying trainer surprised him by springing up onto Gary's thigh and leaping high into the air. Rotating around his captured hand, he delivered a strong kick to the side of Gary's face.

Releasing Falkner's hand, Gary stumbled backwards while his opponent landed deftly on his feet. Falkner almost started forward to finish the reeling trainer, but stalled when Gary laughed aloud.

"Amazing!" Said Gary, turning and resuming a guarding ward. Falkner frowned at the smirk breaking across Gary's face. "I didn't give you enough credit! I'll have to stop going easy on you."

Eevee rolled to the side as Dodrio's beak hammered down again, its beak piercing the earth. Earth and stone went flying as it tore free and circled on Eevee again. Gary's pokémon had no time to react, as it was busy avoiding the other two beaks running him through. The unending pattern resumed as the three heads took turns striking out in vain at the brown dog.

Suddenly, Eevee had his chance. Twisting away from an attempt at a head-butt, he swept around on the ground, kicking up dust. With his hindfeet, Eevee sprayed it up into Dodrio's face. The bird instinctively pulled back as this sand attack stung its many eyes, giving Eevee a moment to counter-attack.

With a low growl, Eevee turned back his head, and then swung it forward again, launching a swift attack. A cluster of stars formed from pure energy struck Dodrio hard in its many faces, leaving it further exposed as Eevee lunged into its puffy body. Taking the Dodrio down hard, Eevee made to leap off, but the bird reacted with surprising speed, one head latching onto Eevee's paw, and swinging him far.

Striking the ground with force, Eevee squeaked with pain. Pushing itself upright, he glanced up and dropped back down urgently, a wave of hot energy missing by a margin so fine that the hairs of his crème mane were singed. Rolling to his feet, Eevee sprinted forward while Dodrio's three heads danced, settling in a triangle position. Each of the three heads glowed with a different form of energy, before they simultaneously cried out, three beams of energy firing as one.

Eevee leapt over the tri-attack, the beam striking a tree and exploded, sending fragments of ice and burn splinters showering over the area. Attempting to slip in before the next blast, Eevee leapt directly at Dodrio, teeth bared, only to be struck in the face by one of its long legs.

Recovering before he even finishing somersaulting in the air, Eevee suddenly shot forward so fast that he disappeared. Unable to defend against such a quick attack, Dodrio was helpless as Eevee collided with its middle head causing it to fall back at a sickening angle, blood flinging from its beak.

As the Dodrio collapsed and Eevee landed on his feet, the small dog pokémon noticed a heavy shadow pass overhead. Eyes widening with understanding, Eevee turned to warn his master, but couldn't make a noise before Dodrio, one head dangling behind, tackled him with its full body weight.

Meanwhile, Falkner had wisely decided to change strategy, duck swiftly in and out with precision strikes at different angles. Gary had managed to stay out of injury with nothing more than a nick or two on his filthy shirt, but he couldn't help but marvel at the distance and speed that the bird master could jump – almost as if he could fly.

Falkner bound from one point to another, and then suddenly sprung forward, wing-knife arching towards Gary's throat. Oak managed to catch the knife on his sword, but Falkner rolled over the longsword, flipping around Gary with impossible grace, lashing out again before he even landed. An expression of amazement on his face, Gary pulled back with barely a hair-width to spare, the blade scraping across his trailing rifle. It was like gravity didn't apply to this man…

Retreating back a good distance, Falkner shocked Gary by leaping clean over his head. Frozen, Gary almost didn't hear the sound of something heavy tearing through the wind behind him.

Barrelling forward, Gary avoided sudden death as the Pidgeot from earlier careened past. Falkner leapt forward, bringing the knife down to finish the job, but Gary threw up his brown boot, catching the Johto-ite in the stomach. With considerable strength, Gary tossed him aside and jack-knifed to his feet.

"Did you think I'd forgotten about him, huh?" Gary asked, cracking his neck with a smarmy look on his face.

Falkner's perpetual frown deepened still, and he got to his knees and launched off like a sprinter. Gary didn't even need his eyes open to dodge his obvious attack.

Cautious of the circling Pidgeot, Gary quickly guided the fight to the edge of the clearing so that the bird couldn't even attempt a swoop at him without colliding with a tree. Pidgeot saw that Gary was wise to his game, and curled away to join the critically injured Dodrio against the surprisingly powerful Eevee.

Falkner paused suddenly, breathing heavily. Sweat trickled down his brow as he glared at Oak, trying to figure out some way of taking down the other trainer. Gary, who didn't seem half tired, took the moment to glance to the side and see Eevee dance around the teamwork of the two bird-types. This was getting tedious.

Swallowing the saliva in his mouth and gasping drew Gary's attention back to the panting Falkner.

"All that jumping around gets you tired out quickly, hey?"

"Why are you here?" Falkner spat out, starting to get the notion he probably wouldn't win. "Are you with the Rebellion?"

Gary smiled with amusement. "Rebellion? I don't even know what you're talking about – I only got here today!" Scratching the back of his head Gary sighed in boredom. "Now, watcha say you head on home and tell your boss that you-know-who is back in town."

Falkner spat at him. Actually _spat_.

Gary shrugged. "Alright." Gary turned to yell to his Eevee. "Hey Eevee, finish it up already. Hyper beam!"

Falkner's stony scowl shattered and he turned his head in shock. Hyper beam? Impossible! Eevees can't even learn…

Gary's Eeevee responded to his orders by launching two successive quick attacks, knocking both birds to the ground in less than a half-second. Dodrio fell backwards on top of its ruined head, while Pidgeot spun wildly, scrapping across the ground in a trail of kicked-up dirt.

Eevee reappeared some distance away from them. Using the space, Eeevee threw back his head and braced himself, drawing huge amounts of energy from within. The cute little thing started giving off a low growl.

"Eeeeeeeeee…"

As the volume grew, a white ball formed just above Eevee's snout, growing in size. Amazingly, it went past the normal limit and kept growing. Falkner had seen his fair share of hyper beams, but the initial ball never grew beyond the size of a Jigglypuff – but this one… the size of a Raticate, a Pidgeotto, a Graveller… Falkner took a step backwards.

Unnatural winds picked up, tossing twigs and leaves around the clearing. Pebbles and loose dirt were rising into the air. Suddenly, the earth around Eevee's front paws shattered from the sheer power his little body was producing. The ball was already seven Eevees across – Falkner's pokémon knew that if they didn't try something now, they could end up very dead.

They both darted forward together, Pidgeot in the air, Dodrio sprinting along the ground, intent on killing the puppy before he could fire that… _thing_.

"…eeeeeEEEEEEE!"

With a final cry, Eevee threw his head down and unleashed the huge store of energy. Falkner shouted out, but his pokémon had not time to move as the beam struck like a freight train. Both of their bodies were disintegrated instantly, and the blast burned through the clearing, shredding the earthen floor and detonating the entire north side of the battlefield in a colossal explosion.

The wind tunnel behind such an attack whipped about the field, flinging the scattered corpses and sending debris flying. Eevee stood as if he didn't even feel the gale.

Falkner raised his hand to shield his eye from the falling earth and blood. Gritting his teeth, he knew he had to kill Gary _now_, or he, if not the League, was doomed.

Spinning without hesitation, Falkner jumped forward right over Gary's head, hoping to land and get him in the back. Gary was ready though, and unslinging his AK-47, swung it up in the air as Falkner passed.

Everything went in slow motion for Falkner as he saw the strap that hung the gun from Gary's shoulder fly up into the air. Unable to control his flight, he could do nothing to avoid it as it caught his foot. He opened his jaws to scream, but never had the chance as the slack picked up and he was tripped mid-air, crashing face-first into the ground.

Gary turned around and drove his sword through Falkner's heart where he lay.

"Falkner, huh?" Gary said. "I'll remember that next time."

Slinging his rifle back over his shoulder and wiping the blood off his sword on Falkner's clothing, Gary turned to Eevee, who had trotted back to him.

"Eee."

"Moron should have flown off." Gary commented as his pokémon scurried up his clothes and onto his shoulder. About to sheathe his sword, Gary froze when he heard a noise in the trees behind him.

Spinning with terrifying speed, Gary's sword cleft through a thin tree and stopped hardly a centimetre from a soft, pretty neck.

"_Hel_-lo!"

The target gasped and went stiff, and Gary got a good look at the woman in front of him, wide blue-green eyes and shock orange hair down to her shoulders – he recognised her immediately.

"G-Gary?!" She stuttered, something between horror and relief on her face.

A stunned moment passed before the returning trainer moved

"Well then," started Gary, withdrawing his sword. "What do I call you now? Princess? Your Ladyship?"

"Misty will do." She answered dryly, still a little stunned. Gary noted that she hadn't really changed as she got older - still tall, thin, shortish hair - dressed in a yellow vest and denim shorts. Nothing of the regal bearing and attire he assumed she would have picked up, given the circumstances.

"So, I guess these guys were looking for you?" Gary ventured, waving his sword playfully. "Did I just save your scrawny keister, or do I need to use this again?"

Misty balked at his comment, and a very savage look overcame her face. Gary jumped back at the surprisingly intense reaction. "Scrawny?!" She yelled, swinging a large steel hammer.

"Whoa!" cried Gary falling on his back to avoid getting hit, surprised a woman of such slim frame could swing such a heavy item so furiously. The weapon struck another tree, causing it to snap violently. Gary was indignant. "What are you trying to do? Kill me?!"

Slinging the hammer over her shoulder, Misty put a hand on her hip and looked judgmental. "If you don't watch your tongue, I might just have to." Gary muttered lowly as he pulled himself upright, ignoring his Eevee's giggles.

Letting the hammer-head fall to the ground, Misty gazed over the scene of battle, mood changing with frightening rapidity. "So, you killed Falkner?" Gary nodded. She looked uncomfortable with the idea, but said nothing. Gary found that to his liking.

She turned and looked at him with thinking eyes. In the time since she had seen this man, he had grown tall – even taller than her. It was no surprise to see him turn out so handsome – everyone had expected it – but his hair and clothes were a mess.

Gary Oak – the one and only – was back, and no prizes for guessing what for – Misty's eyes were drawn to the green and yellow ying-yang necklace hung deep around his neck. She didn't really want him going down to the Plateau unless it was on her terms. This was, however, a God-given opportunity. Perhaps the rendezvous' interruption was a blessing in disguise…

The look dragged on, and Gary began to glance around nervously.

"What?"

No point in letting this man roam unchecked, at any rate. Fortunately, Misty knew how to deal with men of his type.

With a sigh, Misty lifted her weapon again and picked up a backpack by her feet. Filling her voice with a victimised wisp, she said: "I have to get going, there are more after me. Thanks for your help."

Gary was stunned at such a short exchange after so big an event, and he wasn't going to let so important an acquaintance just walk on by. Sheathing his sword, he jogged up by her side, Eevee darting around his feet.

"Whoa, hey, where are you going?"

She didn't stop, but answered politely. "I was meant to meet someone, but Falkner followed me. I'll have to get to Cerulean City to reorganise."

Gary looked up at the shimmering mountain in the distance. That would mean she'd need to pass through Mt Moon.

"Are you sure? Do you want me to come with you?" Indigo Plateau could wait a while.

"I can take care of myself perfectly fine, thank you very much."

"But there are guys after you!"

"And what's that to you?"

Gary shrugged and smiled. "Well, hey, we red-heads should stick together, right?"

Misty rolled her eyes. Gary hardly qualified as 'red-head'. "Thank you for your concern, but I'm used to danger."

At her repeated refusals, Gary had to concede. She was an ex-Gym Leader – she knew how to defend herself. Besides, it really was just a distraction from his real goal – and in the totally wrong direction!

He stopped and let her walk out of sight, through the trees. Such an odd occurance, but in the end none of his business. He looked down to Eevee, and they both just shrugged at each other.

Rolling his shoulder, he turned to go down Pewter-way, but Misty poked her head back into view suddenly.

"Are you coming?" She shouted in frustration. Gary and Eevee exchanged a look. What the hell?

-- --

The Pewter Quarries were thick with heat and forced labour. Each pit, burrowed deep into the ground like a corkscrew, was manned by long trains of workers, chained together at the feet and watched in detail by guards carrying curved swords. Cheap wooden scaffolding formed a crude framework from which the expendable manpower could operate, chiselling large chunks of rock from the stone walls.

Ferried down by various imprisoned pokémon, the reddish stone was heaped into a hole, within which a pack of Onix rolled around, crushing the ore beneath them until it was fine enough to process. Geodudes and other rock-types who could survive the Onix powerful work carried armfuls of the powdered ore into a giant smelting pool at the base of the pit, a lake of fire kept constantly a light by an army of fire pokémon.

Jasmine pointed over a stream of molten iron running from this pool down to the forge-pits closer to the town.

"As I'm sure you're aware, Champion," Jasmine, Gym Leader of Pewter, continued, lecturing her bored master. She was tall and imperial, wearing a long wispy white robe and keeping her hair sharply up at the temple like wings. She had all the look and bearing of a Roman goddess. "The ground around Pewter is very rich in ore. Utilising our over-abundance of layabouts, criminals and, of course, Rebellion prisoners, we can at last convert this putrid rock into pure steel."

Her eyes gleamed at the prospect.

"If we can establish proper factories, this ore could allow us to produce firearms of our own, so we would no longer be forced to trade with…" She turned to look at her audience.

How much of this the League Champion was taking in was questionable, as he was currently cleaning his ear with his pinky, and the woman at his side didn't seem much more attentive. Jasmine was deeply annoyed at this, but she maintained her composure. It wouldn't do to lose face in front of so important a man, not to mention her underlings.

Jasmine glanced at the woman. A girl of strikingly sensual appearance, with long brown bangs flapping at the side of her face, dressed in a curve-hugging shirt and mini-skirt. The League Champion was not known as a man of great discretion, but it was unthinkable that he should be seen so publicly with such a tramp, especially when he had a wife for such appearances. Jasmine rolled her eyes; even that graceless tomboy of a wife was better than this girl.

But the Champion was impervious to advice and good sense – he was still wearing that damned baseball cap, for goodness sake! What sort of leader wore such common apparel? All his lieutenants had _begged_ him to wear a crown or military cap… At least it was of the concession design that he and the Gym-Leaders had agreed upon – black with a golden crown embroided on the front.

"Perhaps," she said, in a measured tone. "The Champion would prefer to retire to his quarters early and continue the inspection tomorrow?"

He yawned, and Jasmine took this as a yes, swallowing the insult. Honestly, if he weren't so damned powerful…

A commotion picked up behind her, and she turned to see a Graveller and a small group of men burst into the quarry, catching her guards and overseers by surprise. The Champion perked up noticeable, while his 'escort' craned her neck to see what was happening. Jasmine sighed, taking a pokéball from her side and signalling some units from her Iron Guard.

"Excuse me, Champion, but it seems I need to deal with a slight nuisance."

Her master waved her down. "Nah nah, we've got this. May?" He addressed the tart. She look put-upon, adjusted her gloves and tied a bandanna around her head.

They were gone in a flash, and Jasmine wished to heaven that they'd get out of her city as soon as possible.

-- --

The League Guards had gotten their act together faster than anticipated, and the Rebels were fought back without even freeing any prisoners. At least there were minimal casualties, they considered, as the old members of the Boulder Gym regrouped in the light woods outside the City. They planned to curl around and attack another quarry and at least rescue _someone_ today.

"I can't believe they're doing this to our town!" Exclaimed Hykar, checking on his Rhyhorn as it came up beside him. "If I ever get my hands on that woman, so help me I'll…"

"If you value your arse, you won't try." Broke in 'Cue Ball' – as he was affectionately known. He was a large man in leather with a bald, shiny head. "She's out of our league. We've got to play it smart."

Realising this all too well, Hykar glanced back over his shoulder. "You don't think they followed us, do you?"

"Grrrrnoow." Answered his Rhyhorn, shaking its head. Hykar relaxed and turned back to the other ten trainers as they gathered into a circle to figure out where to hit next.

"Oh boys…"

All the heads, human and pokémon alike turned in shock to see a ravishingly beautiful young woman draped coquettishly over a nearby rock, a Beautifly settled on her knee. She waved cutely with a gloved hand. It was a very tempting sight, and in different circumstances, the rebels might have reacted differently.

They leapt to their feet weapons at the ready, distancing themselves from the visage.

"Who are you?" Demanded Cue Ball, the unspoken question being 'and how did you get so close without us noticing?'

She gave the lot of them a sorry look and shrugged. "Sorry it's got to be like this, guys."

Beautifly suddenly took to air and fired a blast of psychic energy, hammering Graveller hard and into the air. It split through three trees before hitting the ground.

The men turned back to the girl in horror at the strength of her pokémon, only to see her spinning gracefully through the air and landing a kick on Hykar that was as picturesque as it was powerful. He did a full flip in the air before falling – dead or unconscious, no one knew.

Rhyhorn screamed in rage and the mystery woman flipped acrobatically backwards, landing like she was in a competition. The stony rhino growled and charged mindlessly forward, but hardly made three paces before a yellow streak slammed hard into its side, stony fragments spraying off, rolling the beast.

As it came to rest, all could see that what had struck it so powerfully was a cute little Pikachu.

The men nearest backed off frightfully. Had that Rhyhorn just been beaten by a _Pikachu_?

Suddenly, Cue Ball cried out in pain as someone drove a katana through his back. Realising they were surrounded, the ex-Pewter trainers all looked back at the newcomer, and recognised him immediately, blank horror freezing their guts.

It was the League Champion himself. Not that tall, he nevertheless looked intimidating in his dark dress and kingly black cape, all in spite of the baseball cap. A dirty black mullet framed his soft features, and dark hair burst from underneath in unkempt fashion. He stood with relaxed power, his cape drifting gently in the light breeze as he counted the Pewter rebels with his brown eyes.

The Champion smiled hesitantly. There was really no good way to carry yourself in front of the people you were about to kill.

He reached up to his cap's bill, and twisted it backwards on his head. The men from the Boulder Gym gasped and cringed. On the hat's back there was stitched a skull.

-

-

Author's notes:

Well, here it is. My first fanfic. As a note, I mix anime and game at my leisure, but its mainly anime. Some charcters are OOC, but none of the main ones (at least, I hope…)

And yes, I know Gary's Eevee evolved into an Umbreon, but I like the idea of the cute Eevee versus the cute Pikachu so much… I didn't realise until after planning everything that Eevee pokémon were so cliché – sorry about that.

Please read and review!


	2. The Moon

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Pokémon. If I did, I'd be rich. But I don't, and I'm not, so please don't sue me Nintendo.

Grasping the Moon

Chapter 2 – The Moon

Gary actually proved to be rather nice company, if you didn't mind all his self-indulgent bragging. Given all the gravity of war, politics and her own tenuous situation, Misty had not really had a chance to relax in a very long time. Strolling down the bright northern forests rather than the cavernous halls of Indigo Plateau made a welcome change. In fact, she felt herself mentally falling back to her wandering childhood.

Though between Gary's height and arrogance it was hard to tell if he played Brock or the other one in the flashback.

"So, what happened to that cheerleading squad you had following you around?" Misty inquired, smiling for the first time in ages.

Gary raised an eyebrow. "What, the cheerleaders? I got rid of them after a year or so, remember?" He sniffed and stuck his nose in the air. "That sort of pretentious display was no longer necessary – I can broadcast my own magnificence in satisfactory fashion."

Misty and Eevee wore identical looks of disgust at his towering ego. Misty was drawn by the sound of his AK-47 clacking against his belt.

"Why didn't you use that earlier, against Falkner and his Gym?" she asked. Gary looked down at the weapon.

"Oh, it's out of bullets." He informed her, flicking the magazine. It made a hollow sound. "I'm using it for show until I get my hands on some more."

To demonstrate his point he raised it and pointed the barrel at her head. She had to admit, her heart did jump even though she knew there was no danger.

Pushing the gun barrel down, she pressed him. "Why not just throw it away if you can't use it?"

The taller trainer looked shocked at the very thought, as though she was asking him to throw away a dear family member. "I like this gun!"

Misty and Eevee both shook their heads sadly, and then the orange-haired girl looked around at the surroundings. As they approached the base of Mt Moon, the trees began to look odd, having grown in strange shapes and colours. The sounds of Pidgey's chirping had slowly faded, and there didn't seem to be any pokémon around at all…

Suddenly, something squealed from a malformed bush and jumped out at her. She fell reflexively to her butt as Gary and Eevee spread their stances defensively.

But it was just a Caterpie. Gary laughed as he let go of his sword.

"I HATE BUGS!!" Misty screamed at the sky while Eevee rolled the Caterpie off the road with his nose. Oak stared down at the childish woman in bemusement.

"C'mon." Gary said, offered her a hand. She glared at him and got to her feet by herself.

As she brushed her shorts off, reflecting on all the times she'd been jumped by insects as a kid (and her never-ending, eternal hatred for them), Gary turned and bent backwards to look up at the sparkling mountain. Juxtaposed against the grey mountains between Kanto and Sinnoh, Mount Moon carried a foreboding air in its dark shape, its strange glistening surface only creating a sense of the paranormal. Gary relished the thought. Dropping his eyes a little, he noticed something through the trees.

"Hey, there's some sort of machinery over there." He pointed, noticing a barbed wire fence and guards as well.

Misty didn't bother looking. "Yeah, they've been harnessing whatever weird radiation or energy or whatever from the mountain to help power Saffron. As if the other Cities weren't having any problems with electricity…" She added under her breath bitterly.

Gary smirked and reached for pokéballs and sword. Eevee wagged his tail excitedly. "So we've got to fight through?"

Waving her hands urgently, Misty protested. "No no no! I'll just ask them to let us in."

With a sidelong glance, Gary conveyed his scepticism. Unimpressed, Misty pointed to the ring on her finger.

"Oh, right."

Nodding proudly, Misty set off towards the facility at the bottom of the mountain. Eevee smiled up at Gary before following her. The trainer shook his head and jogged to catch up.

-- --

The day had worn towards its close as they arrived at the station. The guards certainly looked tense as the armed man and his company approached. The only reason they didn't level their spears immediately was because his weapons weren't at the ready and, well, he had a rifle. As soon as they came within speaking distance, they demanded identification.

Misty looked at the two of them. They were dressed in the grey, impractical parade dress of the Pewter Iron Guard, a Magnemite hovering by each of their heads. They might not know her on sight.

"I need access through Mt Moon." She demanded immediately, hands on hips. Gary and his Eevee watched on impassively. The two guards exchanged a look, and crossed their spears in front of the wire-mesh gate.

"Sorry, ma'am, but Mt Moon has been indefinitely closed due to League business." The one on the left said quietly, apparently a bit frightened of the glaring woman in front of him. She latched onto his fear.

"What was that?!" She cried, and the poor trainer flinched a little. Gary whistled. "Do you have any idea who I am? Do you have any idea at all?!"

To the young trainer's credit, he didn't budge, but the shouting drew the attention of their commanding officer. He emerged to investigate the commotion, dressed in the less restrictive blue uniform of the Cerulean Naval Corps. The officer knew her immediately.

Without hesitation he unlocked the mesh gate and waved the two guards to attention. Sparing a confused glance at the tall, dirty man and his Eevee besides her, the officer approached Misty contritely.

"My lady, we were under the impression you were returning by sea…"

"Well, I'm walking, and going through here." She said, crossing her arms defiantly over her chest.

The officer grimaced, adjusted his glasses and opened his hands in explanation. "Your ladyship, this path is dangerous, no one has come out in years…" She glared at him, arms still crossed.

"Madam, we would be remiss in our duty if we were to…" She kept glaring, unmoving.

The officer was sweating. "Your highness, I really can't…" Glare.

Gulping down the thickness in his throat, the officer gave up and stepped aside. "At least allow me to assign you a compliment of men to…"

"My own bodyguard shall be satisfactory, thank you." Misty said as she walked passed, not even looking at the man, who had taken off his glasses and was massaging away his headache. Gary smiled and waved as he went after her.

As they headed straight up to the entrance to the mountain path – which was guarded by an Iron Guardsman and a Cerulean Marine – Gary looked around the strange plant. It was actually very impressive – Giant metal slabs hovered over the mountain's surface, collecting the strange energy it gave off and channelling it down to a variety of conversion stations connected by ropes of foot-thick cables. Swarms of Magnemites, Magnetons and Electrobuzz busied themselves about the equipment under the direction of technicians.

It made him wonder though how the League could afford such high-end technology collecting electricity here, and yet could only equip their guards with spears.

The compliant officer had raced ahead to explain the situation to the mountain-guards, and they passed by without trouble. The officer swallowed again and opened his mouth.

"If there is any way I can talk you out of this, ma'am…"

Misty crossed her arms and turned to him, and he bowed out. Gary leaned in by her ear.

"You are one scary woman…"

She elbowed him in the stomach as though that wasn't a compliment, and the three of them plunged into the cave's entrance, Eevee tarrying a moment.

"Eee." He thanked the soldiers, before trailing his master inside.

-- --

The caves were nothing like Misty or Gary remembered them. Walls that had once been dull rock were now sparkling like they were set with gems. Gary inspected the rock closely, noting that there was nothing in the rock itself to generate such a phenomenon.

"It's beautiful…" Misty noted, wishing her husband were here to see it, even if he wouldn't get it. Eevee weaved around her feet, sharing her impression.

Behind her, Gary grunted his acknowledgement, still looking around for the source of the strange light.

They worked their way deeper into the caves without incident worse than a Zubat or two fluttering overhead, making them wonder if all the talk about danger was really just bluster. A nagging fear of getting lost started to play at Misty's mind, and she turned to Gary.

"I hope you've got a good sense of direction." She said, as she seemed to be cursed with all the men in her life consistently getting her lost.

"Best in the world." Gary answered with a grin, a self-granted title in which Misty stocked no credibility.

"Okay, Mr Golbat, then tell us where we are."

"Approaching the centre of the mountain." He answered instantly.

"Eeee-vee!" Agreed his little pet, putting its front paws up on Misty's legs. It was unbearably cute.

"Aw, aren't you a little cutie…" Misty gushed, bending over to scratch Eevee behind the ears. He liked it. A lot.

Misty straightened up and looked forward to see that some powerful light around a bend. She paused.

"What's that?"

"One way to know." Quipped Gary, walking past her without hesitating. He rounded the corner and stopped in shock.

Misty and Eevee followed in short order, and they too were driven still. They had burst into a giant chamber flushed with pink light, its walls lined in segmented grooves and filled to the brim with Clefairies and a few Clefables at what looked like key points. Each one was twisting and jerking their chubby pink bodies, throwing up their hands in a strange dance while singing a broken, otherworldly song. All of them were dancing and chanting in synchronisation, a slow methodical pattern, and Gary was quite certain this display wasn't for fun.

Their bizarre dance seemed to be causing the collective to generate huge amounts of energy, causing an ever-brightening pink glow over their bodies. There was a stench like battery acid. Wanton power fluttering around the room caused Eevee's hair to bristle.

"What are they doing?" Misty wondered aloud, sounding just as creeped out as Gary was.

Gary was about to say something, but was cut short by a sudden roar directly behind them.

They spun to look directly into the hateful eyes of a giant boulder, its four arms poise to lash out at them. The three of them dove out of the way just as the Graveller brought its hands down in a thunderous crash. It must have come up behind them as they marvelled at the Clefairies, who had not even flinched at the interruption.

Misty had her hammer at the ready (for all the good it would do her) almost as fast as Gary had a pokéball in hand. He wound up to pitch it forward when they were again surprised.

Something colossal flew in from behind them and struck the Graveller firmly across the face, sending it tumbling. It struck the wall hard and fell to the ground with a concussion.

The 'something' turned around, proving to be the biggest man either Gary or Misty had ever seen, wearing nothing but tattered tan pants. His arms and chest were obscenely thick with muscle, and his hard, morose face was framed with wolfish hair and sideburns. The three of them gaped up at him.

_Did he just punch out a _Graveller_?_ Thought Gary, almost dropping the pokéball from his hand.

"Eeee…" said Eevee in awe.

"Who are you?" Challenged the giant, cracking his knuckles. Gary desperately tried to keep his cool.

"Um, I'm Gary Oak, former League-Champion." _For all of twenty minutes_, he internally noted, bitter. "Who are you, ah, exactly?"

Extrapolating from the man's frown, Gary supposed that this was not the best answer he could have given. Staring up from where she stood, Misty piped up.

"I – I think I know you…" The man turned his attention to the orange-haired woman. "Aren't you Bruno, former member of the Elite Four?"

The giant was tellingly silent, and it was apparent that Misty had got it right. Bruno dropped his hands to his sides, and the tension lifted a little.

"I remember both of you." He said in his gruff voice. "You should come with me, and leave these ones alone." He indicated the mass of Clefairies, who in the whole time hadn't even seemed to notice them and kept dancing.

Bruno walked past them and left the way he entered. Gary glanced at Misty, but she was as clueless as he was, so she just waved her hand to say 'Well, go on, follow him!' Gary looked down at Eevee, who shrugged.

They quickened their pace to catch up with the giant.

-- --

"C-captured?" Stuttered Lieutenant Seymour, officer of the Cerulean Marine Corps, in disbelief. The trainer in front of him nodded. This trainer, Joe, wasn't very physically impressive, but carried an air of trained intelligence, not to mention refined taste. There was no mark of any particular gym on him, only a badge of general League membership.

"Unfortunately." Joe said, grimly. They were sitting in the private booth that served as the Lieutenant's office. It was cramped and cold, but it offered some measure of privacy. "We were ordered into a search for her by Gym Leader Falkner, and so we suspected she was kidnapped. This seems to be the case, as unfortunately we found him and his Gym dead out in the forest."

"So you tracked them here…" completed Seymour, staring at the horizon in shock. "Is the Gym Leader truly dead?" Kanto trainers were renowned as the best in the world – who could possibly have beaten the master of the air and his best men?

The Cerulean officer suddenly looked at the two trainers before him. "But she was in charge as the pair came through today!" He argued. Joe shook his head.

"An act doubtless motivated by threat of force." He calmly reasoned, smoothing out his neat navy blazer. "There is no shame in failing to notice."

Seymour was nonetheless deeply concerned that he had failed to help the old Gym Leader of his native city. "Shouldn't we report this back to the Plateau?"

"Nay!" Erupted the other trainer, who had until now been silent. He was decidedly of stranger dress than his comrade, suited in ornate Samurai armour from head to toe, such that even his eyes were hidden from view. "Imagine our shame, to return empty handed!"

Joe seemed to find his partner's imperious tone a dash melodramatic, and rolled his eyes.

"We shall 'report back' carrying the woman alive!" The Samurai declared, hands clutching impatiently at his sword's grip. "Her, or the Rebel's head!"

-- --

Bruno led them to through tunnels through which he had to hunch to fit – meaning that they were comfortably sized for the others – until they again splayed out into at giant cavern. This one was big enough for the Onix curled up inside to move around happily while accommodating a host of other pokémon, either sparring with each other or sitting in what looked like meditation. A light crisp breeze met them, and on the far side of the cavern was a great hole, through which was a handsome view of the night sky, especially of the full moon.

Gary and Eevee watched with interest as a Hitmonchan danced around a brawny Machamp, narrowing avoiding its many grabbing arms to land steady jabs into its ribs.

Eevee nodded appreciatively. "Ee, Eeeee-vee!" Gary had to agree.

"Is this where you live?" Misty gasped, spying a blanket and scattered tid-bits of food. Perhaps she had been living in that palace so long she'd grown soft in the face of living in the wild. The huge man nodded his head. "Why do you live up here?"

He turned sharply and bore down on Misty, who was shamed to find herself stepping back in fear. He pointed at her in anger.

"And why would I want to go down _there_?" He growled, jabbing at her shoulders with his broad fingers. Misty was sure it would bruise. "To all those_ wars_? The killing and thieving and hating and constant betrayal?" He drew up to his full height and fixed Misty with a fierce glare. "I knew that the first war wouldn't end it. And I was right. There were rebellions and tyrannies and the blood kept following."

It took some courage, but Gary interceded on Misty's behalf before Bruno might work himself up into a rage that would get them all killed. "I think the lady was asking something more along the lines of _what_ are you doing up here?"

Bruno didn't believe him, and he was right to, but went along with it. "I have come up here and hidden myself away from the world to reach the ultimate purpose." He answered, ignoring their confusion. "I spend my days pursuing the impossible goal, through perfection of technique –" He demonstrated some remarkably slick and graceful kicks and punches. " – and refinement of my essence." He pointed over to where a Hitmonlee was sitting cross-legged in reflective meditation.

This only made half-sense to the two listening, though they understood opposite halves. This matter of discussion was very high-minded and a little disturbing, so Gary asked after something that had been pressing on his mind. He stuck a thumb over his shoulder, back down the tunnel.

"What about those Clefairies? What were _they_ doing?"

Bruno grabbed his huge neck and rolled his arm, working out a crink. Misty tried very hard not to be too fascinated with his meaty upper body. "They have been doing that since I arrived years ago. They are building up power. A lot of power."

"But to do what?" Asked Misty, hugging her aching shoulder and looking at the floor.

Bruno raised a thick hand and pointed. His finger was point out the hole in the cave wall, at the glimmering moon, watching them like a godlike eye. Its silvery surface looked almost like a window into a perfect world of light. "Return home, of course."

Groaning, Gary grabbed his head. "Oh, you're not one of those whack-jobs who think Clefairies came from the moon, are you?"

Misty shot him a sidelong look. "And what's wrong with that?" She asked hotly.

Gary threw out his hands and gagged, as though all the thousands of things he could say were rushing to be said all at once. Eevee sighed and curled up at his master's feet.

"It's crazy!" Gary finally settled on, assuming he needn't actually list all the evidence.

Bruno looked beyond unperturbed into totally indifferent. "I don't know any of the science of it, but the moon's where they want to go." He concluded, sliding his thumbs into his pants.

He dropped to the ground, as though concluding the matter. Gary wasn't having any of that.

"And how do you know?"

Bruno shrugged. "Travellers to the same location often come together." He muttered, as though reciting a proverb, though not one either Gary or Misty had ever heard. It seemed that Bruno had made it up himself. Pretentious Guru-wannabe.

Gary dropped to the floor as well, scratching Eevee's mane, and Misty hesitantly followed, careful not to let her bare legs touch the cold, slimy ground. The great man before them crossed his arms and regarded the two of them darkly for a moment.

"As great as I disdain the petty squabbles of common man," he began. "I am curious as to how you two could be travelling together." He withdrew one hand from under his armpit and pointed at Oak. "Either you have decided to join the League," he moved his finger to Misty. "Or you have joined the Rebellion along with him."

Touching her fingertips together as she did when she had something she didn't want to say, Misty murmured. "It's a little more complicated than that…"

"I don't even know what's going on!" Gary declared as though he were proud of it, waving his hand in the air. Eevee looked up in annoyance, keen for the scratching to continue. "I'm just helping out an old friend."

Misty grimaced. "Old acquaintance, really."

"Okay, old friend of a friend."

"Wife of a friend."

"Whatever."

"Hey, shouldn't that be wife of an old, hated rival?"

"I suppose so…"

Bruno watched the exchange from under his heavy brow. Suddenly losing interest, he turned and looked up at the moon, which from up here seemed somehow closer than down in the world in which they lived.

-- --

The quarters he had been granted in Pewter were naturally luxurious – a giant room decked in the greys and silvers that were the colours for Pewter City. The League Champion noted with some amusement that the paint on the walls seemed to have been coated over the older browns. After a quick sweep of the room to look at tapestry, embroidery and art he had no capacity to appreciate and the Champion fell onto his bed next to Pikachu.

It was almost ridiculously big, and though he would have the rare chance to spread out and take up as much of it as he desired, it seemed a bit of a waste not to share it with anyone. Then he remembered the pokémon next to him and scratched him behind the ears absently. He would just curl up at the end of the bed, so he didn't count.

"Cha!" The little yellow mouse exclaimed, delighted at the affection.

Suddenly the Champion shot upright and went to the needlessly broad window. Pikachu rolled up to see what was up. The Champion looked up at the full moon for a moment, musing about something – perhaps someone – unspoken. Then he cast a glance at his clock –a surprising remnant of technology in the almost primitive circumstances that Kanto had fallen to.

"She's late tonight." He started, darkening Pikachu's mood. Standing on his hind legs to begin admonishing his master, Pikachu was cut off by a knock at the door.

The Champion smiled a little and twisted his cap backwards. He walked up to the door, which was heavy and made of some fancy wood or rather. Pulling it easily open, he found May standing there in a slight nightee. The guards were nowhere to be seen.

She looked shy, but the Champion knew it was an act. "Hi." She began, with a little wave. Inside the room, Pikachu sighed angrily, and bounded to the floor.

"So what's got you up late tonight?" The Champion answered with a dumb look, but he knew that she knew it was another act. He 'snickered'. "Have a nightmare?"

"Well…" May said, running a hand up around his collar. She normally didn't go straight for touching and physical contact, but long years of trying had taught her that subtlety was wasted on this man. "I was thinking that since you-know-who has gone on a little family visit, we could get some quality time together." She looked up at him with melting eyes.

He smiled down at her cockily, letting her try and work her magic. She lifted both her arms around his neck and drew intimately close, then slid her hands down to massage his chest.

"So what do you say?" She asked breathily. "Do you want to spend some time together?" She gave him a pout-y look, eyes half-lidded. "Alone?"

The smile on the League Champion's face grew as he saw that this was the best she could do tonight, and he turned away in victory. May's face dropped, and she folded her arms and shifted weight to the other leg in frustration. The door fell closed, but not before she caught the sight of Pikachu looking up at his master with a condemning look.

As soon as the oak door slammed shut, May punched the wall. Furious, she clenched her fist in dedication.

"One day, I will have you!" She swore softly before the invisible things of the air. "Just you wait and see."

-- --

Gary was woken by a rough kick in the side. Crying out, he clutched his side and glared up at the culprit. Seeing that it was the towering Bruno, Gary decided to put aside his initial plan of carving up the perpetrator. Because he, ah, liked the guy. Yeah.

Pulling himself to a sitting position and rubbing his eyes, Gary saw through the huge hole in the mountain that it was still only the middle of the night. "What is it?" He demanded.

"There are men here looking for you two." Bruno pointed to Misty, where she was wrapped up with minimal warmth in Bruno's blanket. "You should wake her."

Bruno turned around to walk off while Gary spluttered. "What?! So, what? We kill them?" Gary pushed himself to his feet. "And you, what, kick us out?" Gary nudged Eevee awake. "You're the worst host ever."

Fixing Gary with a harsh glare, Bruno communicated his apathy effectively. "I didn't ask for you or your rebellions in here. You deal with your problem." He walked out one of the tunnels without another word. His pokémon – amazingly still going at their regime – only took note and resumed their training.

Muttering under his breath, Gary moved over to Misty and gently shook her wake.

"Hey, beanpole, we've got business."

She groaned, and twisted out of his grip. "Not tonight, I have a headache." She mumbled.

Gary went red while Eevee giggled and he shook her some more. "No no, hey, it's Gary. Gary Oak, remember?"

Misty finally opened her bleary eyes and tried to focus on the man shaking her like a broken vending machine. "Wha?"

Brushing the blanket from her shoulders, he pulled her upright. "Come on, those guys are here again. We've either got to fight or leave."

"Wha?" Misty said again, as she tried to clear her head. Gary dragged her alone by the hand. "Hey, wait…"

They got some way before Misty collected enough of herself to pull her hand free. Gary proved to really have a strong sense of direction, and he brought them through the maze of tunnels without hesitation. In their urgency, it wasn't long before they came upon the Clefairy chamber again.

They were still dancing enchantingly, untiringly, and singing that haunting song. The room was charged high with energy – it started to manifest in short cackles of electricity around the Clefables. Standing in a fearful huddle at the other side of the room was a small group of soldiers, equal parts Iron Guard and Marine. Only two trainers stood apart, appraising the Clefairies' activity. Seeing them, Gary ushered Misty and Eevee back out of sight.

"Remarkable." Stated the shorter of the two – a smartly if aristocratically dressed young man. "What do you think they are trying to achieve?"

The other trainer – dressed up like a samurai, for goodness' sake – said nothing, but turned his head directly towards where Gary's party were standing. Desperately, Gary tried to hide further back in darker shadows, and he heard Misty hold her breath.

Samurai-man saw them despite their efforts, and he swiftly spread his stance and grabbed his sword. "Our prey is here!" He declared.

The League trainers came to attention and rushed forward, the short Gym-less trainer doing so casually. Gary sighed and walked into the Clefairy-produced light, Eevee leaping by his side.

"Alright, hi." He said, drawing his longsword.

"We have found you, rebel germ!" Bellowed the Samurai, readying his katana.

The shorter one lifted a pokéball from under the flaps of his blazer. "Release the woman and you may be showed mercy."

"Pfft." Replied Gary, turning to tell Misty to make a break for it, only to see she was already gone. Rolling his eyes, he nodded to Eevee to follow her. Sure of his master's safety, the little puppy did so eagerly.

The well-dressed trainer frowned and went to say something, but the Samurai shouted over him. "I shall deal with the rebel, you rescue the girl."

His comrades were quick to follow his command, and Gary did nothing to stop them as they passed, leaving the two of them alone in the room save for the unwatching audience of Clefairies.

"I see you are of a Western school of sword-play." The Samurai stated, noting Gary's European blade.

Gary had never really thought about it. "Uh, I guess."

"Today I shall demonstrate to you Eastern superiority in the way of the sword!" Prophesised the Samurai, taking a pokéball from somewhere on his armour. It opened to release a brown insectoid creature with thorny pincers from its head – a Pinsir.

Pinsirs didn't earn much respect from Gary, who looked disappointed and threw out a pokéball of his own. In a red flash, a giant armoured creature emerged, lined with spikes and sharp claws, yet somehow still slightly feminine. His prized Nidoqueen.

Nidoqueen was no sooner out of her ball as she was charging the Pinsir, crashing into it hard. The Pinsir impressively stayed on its feet, turning the charge into a spin, sending the two of them into a collision course with the twirling Clefairies. Before they struck, however, they hit a powerful force field of unknown nature. They paid it no heed, as they pressed against it in a wrestling match, the dancing pink pokémon continuing on without seeming to notice.

Their trainers stared at each other grimly, Gary raising his sword in an offensive stance, while the Samurai gripped his tightly with both hands. Something snapped, and they charged each other simultaneously, beginning their duel with a shout.

-- --

_Damn damn damn damn DAMN!_ Misty thought, sprinting blind through Mount Moon's labyrinthine paths. _I can't let them find me here with _Gary_ of all people…_

She ducked and weaved through sharp bends she was sure she hadn't passed through before, doubtless getting herself thoroughly lost. She almost slipped on the damp stones once or twice, but managed to stay in motion.

When she was sure that she had lost them, she stopped to catch her breath, leaning on a relatively dry patch of wall. The adrenalin was fading, and even through her sleepy mind she began to realise how dumb an idea running off had been. If she had waited thirty seconds or so Gary doubtless would have played hero and told her to anyway – then she would have had the luxury of palming the blame off on him.

Misty groaned and slipped down the wall into seated position. No sleep + pursued by League operatives = No wits about Misty.

She actually almost nodded off when she head the scrapping of shoe on stone, and looked up to see one of the Independent League trainers approaching from the shadows.

"Oh great…" she said under her breath, standing up.

Joe looked grim. "I take it from your flight that you are with that man willingly." He deduced, hands behind his back. "This is very… unfortunate."

Misty grimaced, trying to think of how to deal with the situation. She could still probably pass as a scared hostage, but that would mean losing this golden opportunity to bring Gary Oak on side. Not only that, but the extra security that would inevitably be showered upon her would mean chances to sneak away would become far more scarce. She couldn't let him live to return to the League and spill the beans, but to kill him would be, well…

As the trainer advanced, Misty let her hand hover over her pokémon belt, wondering who to release…

Joe tossed out his own pokéball before she did, and in a flash and a Victreebel was clogging up the passage with its long vines. Misty's hand froze. This was a problem.

Problem was solved when, in a burst of considerable speed, Eevee was standing between her and the grassy monstrosity.

"Ah," said Joe, slipping between his pokémon's grassy limbs. "Perhaps more type-appropriate, but the difference in evolutionary level is considerable."

Eevee growled and started to glow white, powering up. As his strength began to increase, however, the ground began to shake and light pieces of rock loosed from the roof. Looking up, Eevee stopped amassing energy so rapidly – a cave-in wouldn't help anyone, but how would he be able to focus his power?

Unsure as to whether Eevee wanted to take orders from her or not, Misty ventured a suggestion. "Hey, Eevee, uh, Bite?"

The little dog lunged forward swiftly. Joe ducked to the side as the dog swept past him and latched onto one of Victreebel's vines. The grass pokémon screamed inhumanly and shook hard, throwing Eevee through the air. The brown pup wasn't concerned, bouncing easily off a wall and raking a clawed paw across Victreebel's centre sac. The Venus flytrap flinched back from the pain, white sap bleeding from the wounds.

Eevee landed, but was quickly swept up by a vine wrapping around his furry mane. The loop closed tightly, and Victreebel lifted the struggling pokémon before its eyes, set beneath its gaping mouth. Even through the black spots forming in his vision, Eevee saw what he thought to be sadistic glee in them.

-- --

"We're screwed, aren't we?" Asked one of the Iron Guardsman, prodding the earth walls with his spear in depression.

Slightly ahead of him, one of the Marines hadn't quite given up hope. Even though the trainer Joe had outpaced the rest of them and disappeared around the sharp bends and twists, he can't have been that far ahead of them. "Don't say that, we'll work our way out somehow." He said, looking for signs of human use of the passage.

"We better, 'cause I don't want to stay here with those Clefairy a moment longer than I have to." The Guardsman replied, shivering. "I say as soon as we rescue her ladyship, we come back and flush this place out."

Another Iron Guardsman, the owner of the Magnemite that was emitting a bright light to illuminate the shadows, straightened suddenly. "Hey, I have an idea!" He pointed up to his Magnemite. "Magnemite could use Lock On and maybe be able to track them down somehow."

The optimistic Marine looked over his shoulder. "Or failing that, some sort of sonar!" He looked ahead again. "Let's try this way fir-"

He was cut of by a meaty sound, and fell in a heap on the ground. The other trainers stared in dull shock as a squat Hitmonchan stood over their fallen comrade, impatiently letting loose some test jabs. The first Guardsman readied his spear.

"Oh, no way…" But he two was knocked to the muddy floor, this time by a long flying kick from a Hitmonlee. His spear clattered loudly on across the ground.

The League men huddled together, a pokémon on both sides. Some of them tried to gulp down their fear.

"Hey," one whispered. "Get the Magnemite to thundershock 'em…"

"Don't bother." Answered a thick voice, and the trainers noticed a giant black shape behind the Hitmonchan. It stepped forward into Magnemite's light, reveal a man of colossal proportions and strength, wild black hair framing a scornful frown. He cracked his knuckles loudly.

-- --

As the pokémon battled behind him, Joe steadily advanced upon the woman he had previously intended to rescue. She had pulled her hammer from wherever she kept it, holding it at the ready, but backing away every step that Joe advanced.

"Stay back." Misty ordered, withdrawing another step. She didn't want to kill him, but what other options were there what was she meant to do so tired she needed sleep should she kill him?

Joe made the mistake of taking her retreat as fear. He reached under his neat blazer into the pocket behind the Pokémon Tech emblem and opened a switchblade.

"I'm afraid I can't do that." He said, leaping forward. Scared as he assumed she was, there was no way she could handle that weapon properly, if she could strike at him at all. He had forgotten all the stories about her, though.

Misty spun as though to flee, but twisted right around and kicked Joe in the stomach. He gagged, spittle flying in undignified fashion, and hunched over. Self-defence, frustration and sleep-deprivation became a violent mix, driving Misty to attack Joe. She swung out with her steel hammer, sweeping it up behind Joe's knee. He fell, only to collide with Misty's shoe.

Joe went flying, rolling wildly in the dirt and rock, and dropping his knife. He managed to control his spin, coming back up to his feet, much worse for wear and clothes _ruined_. Misty was on him again, driving the base of her hammer into his jaw.

The trainer's head snapped back and he collapsed in a graceless heap on the ground. Misty staggered back from Joe's body, adrenalin wearing off. Her weapon drooped to the stony floor and a hand went to her head trying to press in the storm of thoughts.

_Another. Another. Another dead. _ Her brain screamed, even though Joe couldn't possibly have more than a concussion and a broken jaw. The cave smells of decay and moss bloomed into blood and rot in her nostrils. A thousand memories and nightmares hit her at once, of the battles, the screams, the dead, the dead, and the sea. _Oh, the sea…_

Barely sure of where she really was, she stumbled forward, hammer trailing behind her.

Eevee, however, was choking. Clawing at the vine proved fruitless – no pun intended – so he tried a new strategy. He closed his eyes and focussed through the urgent airlessness of his lungs.

Suddenly, his eyelids shot open, revealing a bright yellow glow, leering directly down at Victreebel. This was no mere look – it had pseudo-Psychic power behind it. Shocked, the plant recoiled, its grip weakening a bit. This gave Eevee the opening he needed, rearing back his head and launching the energy stars of a swift-attack.

Victreebel cried out again as it drew back, letting go of Eevee. The moment his paws touched the damp stones, the tiny dog bolted forward, slamming hard into Victreebel's body. He immediately followed up with a long series of furious swipes. Sap was spilling from Victreebel's wounds at alarming speed, but when Eevee relented of his attack, a vine whipped from nowhere and caught him in the ribs.

The blow was weak though, and Eevee was only knocked back a small distance, dodging with ease the next few green whips.

Victreebel, swaying dizzily, attempted to launch a volley of razor leaves, but it wouldn't have hit even if Eevee hadn't slipped around. The bladed greenery cut deep into the tunnel rocks, but Eevee paid them no mind, watching the towering Victreebel. He was content not to fight anymore. Victreebel tried to attack again, but the sap loss was too great, and it collapsed unconscious.

Eevee turned to check up on Misty, but saw her coming towards him, bumping into the walls drunkenly. She had a horror-stricken face, and was staring blindly ahead, unmindful of the unconscious Victreebel or Eevee yapping up at her.

"Ash…" She said lowly, eyes watering.

The small dog pranced around her feet for a few moments, trying to get her attention or ascertain what was wrong. Failing on both counts, Eevee jogged forward to get help, glancing back at Misty worriedly as she relentlessly pressed forward in pursuit of whatever invisible thing she saw.

"Ash…" she repeated, more urgency in her tone.

Eevee faced forward and rushed down the tunnel.

-- --

The 'Samurai' proved to be a much weaker fencer than advertised. He swung hard and powerfully, but Gary lazily parried every blow, slipping around the side with a half-hearted counter-attack. He cut across the Samurai's armour.

Growling with rage, the Samurai spun, aiming for Gary's eyes, but the Pallet Trainer stepped deftly back out of range, catching the follow-through on his sword with a metallic sound.

"I will prove the Hitsu-Kaigan-Kempo school the greatest in the World!" Cried the Samurai, and Gary fought hard to keep back a yawn.

Letting his eyes wander, Gary watched their pokémon battle, holding his defence effectively with one hand and his peripheral vision. Pinsir was just as out-classed as its master was, impotently struggling against Nidoqueen's superior strength. With every step, Gary's pokémon was crushing the rocks, pushing the hopeless bug type around like a bulldozer.

Abruptly, Gary decided he was sick of this. He didn't return to Kanto for this B-class rubbish. He wanted real fights. Keeping his rifle gently out of the way with one hand, Gary caught a powerful overhead strike on his blade, sweeping it aside and kicking at the Samurai's chest.

The Samurai's over-the-top armour absorbed the blow, but he staggered back, giving Gary a moment to whistle at his Nidoqueen. At the signal to end it, the giant pokémon immediately grabbed the Pinsir's two horns. The bug desperately struggled, trying to grab at the heavier, larger Nidoqueen. She kept the Pinsir out of range, her grip unrelenting. Then, ignoring its shout, she pulled the tall pincers in opposite directions with a sickening tear.

As she tossed the two halves of Pinsir away, Nidoqueen roared to her master so he knew it was done. Gary didn't acknowledge, but lifted his sword in attack as the Samurai charged him again, keen weapon steady.

Seeing Gary raise his weapon offensively, the Samurai skilfully twisted his blade to parry the inevitable blow. But, when Gary's attack crashed into the katana, the Samurai was shocked to see his weapon snap.

"But-" he stuttered, staring at the stump, unable to believe that his 'superior' Japanese blade was broken by a cheap barbarian one.

Then Gary ran him through.

Sighing, Gary put a boot to his enemy's chest and drew his sword from his armour. Nidoqueen drew closer to her master with thunderous steps, and Gary let the corpse fall to the cave floor. Rubbing his temple, Gary glanced up at the crowd of Clefairies.

They were dancing on, unaffected by the brief battle that had taken place in front of them. The power they were generating had grown considerably – bolts of energy were darting all over the cavern, and a low hum had begun to build.

Gary swore as he darted aside from an energy bolt that had lanced out at his foot.

"What's going on?" He said to himself while Nidoqueen watched on in confusion.

"They've accumulated too much energy too quickly." An answer came from one of the cavern's entrances. It was Bruno, easing his huge frame in and stalking over to Gary. There was blood on his knuckles. "Their quest for the moon has become dangerous."

Gary turned towards Bruno while Nidoqueen observed with surprise how the human came all the way up to her chin. A sudden tremor through the ground shook even Nidoqueen's footing.

"I thought they'd been at this for years!" Gary exclaimed, suddenly thinking of Eevee and Misty. "Why all of a sudden?"

Bruno rubbed the end of his mouth casually, but his eyes were grim. "I hear virgin blood is quite potent in this sort of matter."

Gary scrunched up his face for a moment, then remembered the Samurai. He looked down at the body, around which a deep pool of blood was rapidly forming. "But…" he started, but stopped. It was possible. So painfully possible.

"We need to leave." Said Bruno, as another tremor, stronger than the last, shook the room, and sparks rapidly spouted from the dancing Clefairies. "They won't stop – the moon as that sort of power over people and pokémon alike." Bruno turned a walked quickly back the way he came. "You better find the girl."

As the giant man disappeared, Gary frowned, ducking another surge of energy. At this rate, there'd be no chance to both collect the errant members of their group and escape – if there were even time for one. Gary gritted his teeth and hesitated, when he suddenly thought he saw something move between the dancing Clefairies.

A new earth-shake, this time loosening dirt from the roof, was enough to convince Gary to forget it and get moving. Trying to ignore the rapidly increasing pitch of the humming, he started for the way Misty and Eevee left, Nidoqueen bounding after him.

To his surprise, Eevee appeared first, running up to him in a panic.

"Ee! Eeeee! Ee-vee, ee!" He cried, as Gary gathered him up into his arms. His master took the news with some surprised.

"She's _what_?" He started, before the mountain shook violently.

As he and Nidoqueen got to their feet again, they saw that Misty already appeared at the way in, leaning drunkenly on the wall. She lifted haunted eyes and looked at Gary strangely.

"Ash?" she said tenderly, a name that Gary could hear over any din.

Misty couldn't really see the cave, or the horde of over-powered pokémon, but Gary she almost saw. There was something about him, maybe the way he stood, or perhaps something deeper about him (it certainly wasn't his face), but when she looked at him, she saw the man she sought.

"Ash…" she whispered, staggering forward. Gary ran to meet her, but was surprised that she fell against him – it was all he could do to catch her. "I did it again, Ash." She said through a sob.

Gary looked around desperately. The walls were crumbling, the ground shaking, and the Clefairies glowed so bright he couldn't even look at them, but her voice was breaking. She couldn't be crying, not tough-girl Misty.

"Oh hell." he said. They were totally screwed, and all Misty was doing was spout gibberish about doing things again. They had problems – the mountain was about to collapse upon them! A large boulder fell from the roof and shattered on the ground not five metres from them. Clenching his teeth, Gary held Misty tight and yelled at his pokémon. "Eevee, reflect! Nidoqueen, Barrier!"

They huddled together within the double-layered defence, cringing, as the humming got screechingly high. Out of Gary's peripheral vision, he thought he saw that thing again flitting between the Clefairies.

But soon he saw nothing as everything went pink.

-- --

As soon as he had left Gary's sight, Bruno started running. There was no telling how big an explosion this could prove to be – his best chance would be to swing by his training room, call his pokémon, and dive out the gaping hole in the wall.

Gary Oak, of course, would probably die, but the world – for all it mattered to him – was better off without murder-machines like him.

Running became difficult as the tremors became continuous. Some rocks shifted suddenly, and Bruno tripped. He rolled with practised ease, coming upright unharmed, but he now caught a view of the inhumanly bright glow coming from behind him. His eyes widened in wonder as he saw how beautiful it was.

The supernaturally shimmering light was coming closer at alarming pace. Bruno stood and embraced the lunar light.

"Home?" He thought, before everything went pink.

-- --

The earthquakes were unnatural, this Lieutenant Seymour knew for certain. This wasn't an area prone to seismic activity, particularly of this degree. An Electrobuzz next to him fell on its face as the ground shook with increasing violence.

The small base was abuzz, scientists, soldiers and pokémon either rushing to Mount Moon's entrance to see what was happening, or fleeing in fear. Seymour, who was standing still staring up at the mountain, noted that Zubats, Rattatas and other cave-dwelling pokémon were pouring out at a disturbing rate.

Another shockwave struck, sending hellishly expensive equipment toppling over. Men were crying out, but he was unable to give any instructions. It was chaos, pure and simple.

The rumbling grew, and bright pink light burst from within the mountain's tunnels, turning the night as bright as day. Soldiers and pokémon screamed, but Seymour couldn't find it in himself to even give a simple order. He hadn't it within him to move.

With a hollow sigh, Seymour tore off his rank slides, removed his glasses and stared straight up at the glaring moon.

Then the entire mountain, along with everything at its base, exploded in a monstrous ball of pink light.

-- --

It could be seen all the way from Celadon City. Mount Moon, constantly glittering with strange radiation, suddenly emitting a strange pink light show unmatched since before the first wars. Then, as some strange energy welled up inside and burst, turning the peak and everything around it into a giant pink explosion. Rocks the size of houses showered down on the surrounding countryside, landing even as far as Pewter and Cerulean.

Dirt, petty rocks and debris were sucked up like nuclear blast cloud, creating a thick cloud before raining down on Kanto like a second rain of pebbles.

As the grumbling earth died down, a shocked calm held the country, as the famous, unique Mount Moon was gone, leaving only a huge pool of crumbled boulders.

-- --

All that was left was a desert of stone. The dead quiet was ruled by the hateful laughs of the dark and ghost-type pokémon who accumulate at scenes of unthinkable tragedy. Nothing stirred, the dust settled.

The station at the mountain's base had been wiped from the earth, covered in miles of shatter dirt and ore. No humans were left to see the rugged landscape it had become. A Hoot-Hoot cooed sadly in the distance.

Suddenly, one of the smaller boulders shifted, and was tossed aside with a grunt. Gary Oak, cut and roughed up, though surprisingly free of serious injury, pushed himself out from under another rock, sitting as comfortably as he could.

"Ow."

He looked around in a daze as his Eevee pulled himself out from where he was caught, and Nidoqueen threw a pile of granite off her back with a growl. Rubbing his head once Gary marvelled at their survival. Surely even the formidable defence from these two pokémon couldn't have been enough? How could they have possibly been so close to the top of this mountain-worth of rubble?

Aching all over and not in the mood to think, Gary fell back and stared at the sky. He was spellbound by what he saw.

In the strangely clear sky, the entire tribe of Clefaires were floating away, carrying by some unseen force. At their head was another sort of pokémon – something pink and small, but definitely not a Clefairy – that lead them further and further into the night sky. Gary couldn't believe it as he saw them moving directly towards the moon.

He stared in blind wonder for a long time, long after they went beyond sight, but was distracted by a grunt and a shifting sound nearby.

Turning his head, Gary watched a rock shift and drift a little.

"Starmie." He heard a muffled voice in the silence say. "Water gun."

The rock was blown high in the air by a column of water. It fell against more debris far away from them with a loud clunk.

It was Misty, naturally, who recalled her star-shaped pokémon without even being able to say thanks. She looked exhausted, her hair and face a mess. Tiredly, she drew herself up, noticing Gary.

"We're alive?" She asked, seeming not to remember how she broke down in front of him before. He would rather forget too. Gary nodded at her question.

She stared blankly around at the ruins of Mount Moon. "Alive."

Misty drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped around herself, looking up at the sky. "Alive." She repeated, sounding oddly bitter. She might have been more together than before, but she seemed just as miserable.

They were quiet for a long while, save for the occasional bout of coughing as fine dust and grime hovered in the air and caught in their lungs. They knew full well that they should be leaving before any League troops came to investigate, but they had no energy left to move. Eevee was sprawled out at Gary's side, while Nidoqueen sat patiently on a large block of moonstone. Misty curled up tighter and put her chin on her knees.

"Do you think there are pokémon up there in space?" She asked out of nowhere.

Gary turned his head and looked back up at the night. Considering what he'd just seen, he sure wasn't going to rule it out.

"Yeah, I think so."

She was very quiet and not looking at him. "Do you think they look down on us here and cry?"

Gary closed his eyes and said nothing, not wanting to reveal his horrible hunch that they looked down and laughed.


	3. Meet the Family

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Pokémon. If I did, I'd be rich. But I don't, and I'm not, so please don't sue me Nintendo.

Grasping the Moon

Chapter 3 – Meet the Family

Come daybreak, the ruins of Mount Moon had been cordoned off by a wave of League trainers. They were, however, a superstitious bunch, and kept well clear of climbing onto the pile of debris themselves. The stale air and flat wind inspired a sense of dread that no man could ignore. Or perhaps the real fear was of the ones who were picking through the churned earth personally.

Lorelei, a woman with a professional long ponytail was out in the thick of the devastation. Though dressed in a feminine business suit, she seemed not to possess any notion of how a lady should carry herself. In a broad stance, fists tight with strength, she practically hulked over the mess, as if expecting to intimidate the rocks into giving her answers.

She expressed no emotion in her features, merely the chilling possibility of direct force in any situation. Removing her oval glasses to polish them, she scanned the area briefly, a thousand possibilities calculated and analysed in her head. It would be impossible to excavate this area for evidence – it was too big and there was too much rock.

"Question;" came a voice behind her. It was a bald, older man in a white coat, wearing tiny circle sunglasses and a ludicrously bushy moustache. He was Blaine, leader of the lost Gym of Cinnibar. "Who would have done this?"

"The Rebellion is the obvious suspect." Flatly responded Lorelei. "This action not only threatens the power to several major installations, but disrupts travel between Pewter and Cerulean." She replaced her glasses. "It suits the needs of their guerrilla tactics."

Blaine smirked, having already figured out that much. He put his forefinger to his lips as he sought words. "Very well, amendment; who _could_ have done this?"

This was a more pertinent question and Lorelei turned it over in her head as she examined the scattered heaps of stone. No pokémon could have this much power, and the amount of explosives required to destroy an entire _mountain_ was unthinkable.

Further, if the Rebellion had the capability to do this much damage, why here and not Indigo Plateau? Or Pallet? Could they repeat the display?

"Possible answer:" Blaine started again, jumping from a high rock to a lower one without difficulty. He was spry for so aged a man. "Team Rocket?"

Lorelei turned around and approached Blaine, navigating the hopelessly wild terrain easily even in her high-heels and tight skirt. She never miss-stepped. "Unlikely. This action is too drastic for them, and I don't believe even they have this sort of fire-power."

Nodding silently, Blaine scanned the destruction while tapping his lips – a sign of deep thought. Lorelei stood beside him equally quiet, running through the options mentally.

They were disturbed by a gush of wind, blowing Lorelei's deep blue hair and rustling Blaine's moustache. They looked up to see a ninja perched on a tall, thin rock, staring down on them with purple eyes. She seemed slight of frame and unarmed, but both of the other League generals knew that she carried at least a dozen sorts of hidden weapons about her.

"Falkner is dead." She said simply, removing her mask and revealing hair tied in a spiked bun to keep it out of the way in case of a fight. "I found the remains of him and his Gym a day's walk from here."

Blaine was somewhat surprised, while Lorelei didn't even flinch. "Query: how did he die?"

Janine, Gym-leader of Fuchsia city and second-in-command of the Fuchsia Clan, dropped down to their level, revealing her to be much shorter than her peers. "They fell in battle against a single, more skilled opponent. They seemed never to have gained the upper hand, despite having taken carbines from the armoury."

"Did you recover the firearms?" Lorelei asked straight, to which Janine nodded once. This pleased Lorelei – guns were hard to come across in Kanto now, even for the League. Trainers were of more abundant nature.

"Question; what was Falkner's intention?" Blaine's thought hung in the air a second.

"I recall he left the Plateau in a hurry." Janine offered, hesitant to speak up in front of her much smarter comrades. "Perhaps he knew something we didn't?"

But what? That this mountain was under threat? Who was strong enough in Kanto to butcher Falkner so efficiently? Falkner was an antisocial and independent man, not prone to sharing or going to others for help – he wouldn't have told anyone his reasons. They mused for a moment longer, but no answers were immediately forthcoming.

"At least we know Falkner was no fool." Lorelei said, looking over her shoulder to the east. "But we know who are. The fools down in Cerulean should have at least dispatched an investigation by now. This concerns me."

Blaine bounced on his feet a little in faint amusement. "Proposition; we pay them a little visit?"

Lorelei shook her head shortly. "No, her 'ladyship' is currently down there – for us all to appear at once might reveal we suspect too much."

Janine watched quietly as the two schemed. Her skills were highly specialised, and matters of political manoeuvring were way beyond her. It was her father himself who had advised not to become too involved, and simply stick to whoever seemed like they would get anywhere – and Lorelei, she was going places.

"The Water Master is slippery," continued Lorelei, without a trace of humour on her lips, though Blaine smirked. Lorelei let her hand go to a pokéball hidden under her jacket's flaps. "I will deal with her personally."

-- --

The walk from the mountain had been a tired and quiet one. Misty was appreciative of the different terrain – bright green forestry split by a comfortably wide dirt path. It was a welcome change to the claustrophobic stone halls of what once was Mount Moon.

The trio stumbled along, having had less than a good night's rest as Gary had insisted that they sleep in the trees. Misty was so paranoid about bugs crawling all over her that she had been forced to use her Starmie to hypnotise herself to sleep. All three of them were filthy and stunk up a storm – Gary and Eevee were more used to the smell, having only just come off a gruelling three-week long mountain trek across so-called 'impassable terrain' – Misty, however, had grown accustomed to more opulent surroundings.

Abruptly stopping, Misty reached around in her pockets and pulled out some old tissue paper. Gary raised his eyebrows as she rolled up some wads and shoved them up her nose.

Eevee took advantage of the break, scrambling up Gary's back and plonking himself atop of Gary's head, folding the trainer's spiky hair down into his eyes. Gary looked up as if trying to see his pokémon. Misty giggled at the sight.

The girlish sound made Gary look back down. He wasn't used to this woman acting so much like a… woman. Gary never knew her that well, but when they had been young she had always been harsh, forceful and tough as an Onix. His memories of her were always tied to Ash, the two of them beating each other senseless, and occasionally kissing.

He never thought of her as girly at all – she was strong enough to have gone through the Mount Moon mess and walked so far and not even look that tired. She was more like a guy, wasn't she? "What?" He asked, breaking their silence.

"Oh, its nothing." She said, but told him anyway. "It's just that Ash's Pikachu does the same thing to him."

Gary grew quiet, looking up at Eevee again with something in his eyes and fiddling with his yin-yang necklace. Misty couldn't discern if it was a good or a bad quiet – but at any rate, she wanted to keep talking, it was lifting her spirit. Then their attention was drawn by an odd sound, distinct against the chirping and rustling of the forest.

"Baaaa…"

They looked together at small woolly pokémon, its fleece a pale wash of yellow. A Mareep. A flock of others, sticking tightly together, soon joined it, led by a taller Flaafy. Gary knew at a glance that they were wild, which surprised him.

As they started grazing on the grass, he turned to Misty. "Mareep? They're not native to this area!"

Misty nodded and tried to rub some of the dirt from her face. It only made her hands dirty. "It was part of a plan we set up to boost food supplies. The League imported a whole lot of Mareep from Johto. There was a bad famine after all the wars."

Gary was critical of this plan. Mareep meat, even after being tenderised and cooked, was known to often have a strong, lingering electrical charge. "That's a bit of a dangerous."

With a shrug, Misty dismissed his commentary. "It went to pot anyway. The Resistance just broke the fences and now the damn things run wild."

Nodding, Gary made to move off again, and Misty followed. Eevee, that cunning dog, didn't have to walk anymore, riding on his master's head.

"Hey, you're going to have to explain what that's all about."

Misty looked up at Gary – it wasn't often she looked up at people – questioningly. "What's about?"

"About this League and Rebellion business – I'm out of the loop." He explained, twirling his finger in a circle.

"Oh." Misty moved some hair from out of her eyes. "It seems fairly obvious, doesn't it? Evil tyranny, dissenting rebels?"

The taller man rolled his eyes. "The history of it, I mean. And how you tie into it all."

"Oh." She said again, this time in a tighter tone. "I think we'll wait until we get into Cerulean for that – we're almost there."

Gary squinted and looked ahead. He couldn't see any buildings past the next rise – Cerulean was a decent sized city, if they were 'almost there' he would have been able to see something. Eevee was just as confused, standing on his head with perfect balance, straining to look over the slight hill.

Legs pumping to ascend the rise, Gary voiced his concerns. "Listen if we were that close we would-" He cut himself off as he reached the top. Eevee gasped cutely.

Before him was a huge lake, crystalline water sparkling in the noon sun, stretching out as far as he could make out. It was the deep, strong blue of mountain lakes, a colour so rich that it seemed like paint. In the lake was a city.

Cerulean was flooded, leaving only the tops of its taller buildings sitting above the flat water like a steel archipelago. Beneath the surface, plummeting down beneath sight, the twisted skyscrapers and office buildings were coated thick with barnacles and algae, the rusty remains of a busy metropolis floating around like tenacious ghosts.

"What the…" He started, but was unable to find something suitable to swear by. "What happened to this place?"

"A lot of things." Misty replied, strolling past him and down the hill towards the shore of Lake Cerulean. There was no point playing up the moment. "Mainly the first wars. Someone blew up the dam, and all the shelling destabilised some underground tunnels or something." Misty waved her hand as if brushing aside the details. "The point is, the city sunk and drowned."

Gary ran to catch up, still stunned. They approached the shore and a pair of Cerulean Marines spotted them, seeming a little jumpy (understandable, after a _mountain_ exploded last night). When they saw Misty, however, they saluted and let her through. She hardly acknowledged them.

"People _live_ here?" Gary exclaimed, observing both the guards and the ramshackle housing that was assembled on the rooftops. Misty nodded, stepping ankle deep into the water and taking out a pokéball.

"Love of their native land is the only reason people still stay in Kanto." She called out her Starmie, who spun delightedly in the shallows. "Otherwise we would have left like everyone else. Are you coming?"

Eevee leapt down to splash around in the water. "Where are we going?" asked Gary.

"The Gym, to see the Gym-leaders." She answered, sounding unenthralled, and climbing onto her Starmie's jewel and grabbing on to its limbs. Gary watched her – was she intending to ride it? There seemed to be enough room for both of them on her pokémon, but it would be a serious squeeze. As Gary approached from behind, Misty glanced over her shoulder to see him try and get on with her. "What are you doing?" She said icily.

"Um…" replied Gary, trying to indicate that he thought he was meant to get on with her.

She glared, which Gary, now at the receiving end, found not to be a pleasant experience. "Surely," she began in a patronising tone. "_Surely_ a pokémon master of your level would have a pokémon who could swim."

Gary went red with embarrassment and fumbled for a pokéball. Eevee snickered, causing his master to go redder.

"Hey, uh, I was just wanting to save energy…" he tried to cover, lamely. Gary opened his pokéball and called out a giant blue turtle with cannons bursting from its shell over his shoulders.

"BLAST!" cried Blastoise, Gary's first pokémon, with such volume that everyone in earshot winced. Gary waved Eevee over, and the two of them grabbed onto Blastoise's shell, which had surprisingly good purchase. Misty admired the size of the Blastoise for a moment, before telling Starmie to head off.

Setting off after her, Gary and Eevee took a moment to observe the city. Even with all the angled buildings collapsing against each other, the long waterways seemed to operate like a street. People were swimming from building to building, some carried by water pokémon, and others moved in long thin boats, propelling themselves forward with long oars. Many people were gathering together and pointing back at where Mount Moon once stood.

And people really did seem to be living here – unstable homes were thrown together on top of each dry roof, and some of the tallest buildings, which had visible floors, had people wondering around inside – Gary could see them through the shattered windows.

"I guess people really can survive anywhere," commented Gary, as they shot past a houseboat built from scrap. Their wake rocked it gently, but the man on board just smiled at them. Eevee waved a paw, and the man resumed fishing.

Misty was secretly impressed that a supposedly slow water-type like Blastoise could keep pace with her Starmie. She was strongly tempted to turn this into a race, but she quelled the instinct. It wouldn't do to lose Gary and then have to find him again.

She twisted around on Starmie's back and called back at Gary, who was staring with fascination at a child playing water-tag with his Horsea.

"Whaddya think?"

Gary tightened his mouth appreciatively. "It's something new, that's for sure."

Misty laughed, and Eevee climbed up onto Blastoise's head. The water flicked up into his fur and his eyes – he couldn't help but grin.

"Ee!" He said proudly. Misty raised an eyebrow.

"What was that?" She asked, looking to Gary.

"He says the place is really washing off on him." Groaning, Misty turned to face forward again, but Gary piped up with a question. "Hey, where's the Gym?"

Misty pointed out at an angle, towards a large building not far off. It looked to have been a broad hall with a large dome on top, as only the top of its round shape could be seen bubbling out from the water. "Its not much, but its home."

Squinting against the passing wind, Gary smiled lightly at the sight. Suddenly he patted Blastoise on his shell. "Well, now I know where it is, I guess the last one there's a rotten Togepi, hey?"

Underneath him, Blastoise looked up with joy. "BLAST!" he roared, causing Eevee to stumble. Increasing his speed, Blastoise rocketed past a very surprised Misty.

"I used to own a Togepi, I'll have you know!" She cried after him, but she was smiling. She looked down at Starmie under her, who had no expression save the glowing jewel at its centre. "Are you going to let them put you to shame like this?" She said light, and Starmie lit up brightly, erupting into alien sound.

"Haaah!" it gurgled, which Misty knew as a sound of enjoyment, and they increased their speed dramatically, Misty wearing a determined expression.

-- --

"Madam," announced Officer Jenny. "The men are ready."

Daisy perked up at the mention of men, but then realised it was only the marines. "Oh, like, whatever." She said dismissively, looking back to her nails, which she was painting with intense concentration.

With her, also attending to their cosmetic needs, were her equally air-headed sisters, Violet and Lily. Lily scoffed as she combed her long pink hair. "Like, the man-in-uniform thing totally doesn't do it for me."

Jenny fought hard to contain her anger. Everyday she had to deal with this disgusting insult to the once distinguished Cerulean Marine Corps. It was even worse that the three supposed 'Gym-Leaders' of Cerulean were content to continue their disrespectful behaviour even with half the corps at attention in front of them.

Mastering herself successfully, Jenny made a futile attempt to reason with her superiors. "Your ladyships, we know you have more important things to do…" She was tempted to cross her fingers behind her back, but every soldier in the large hall would be able to see that. "But I think it would be well-advised to send a team to investigate the incident at Mount Moon."

Violet dropped her nail file in an explosion of anger. "Omigawd! Didn't that, like, totally wake you up in the middle of the night?" Her sisters gave a shrill cry.

"I know, totally! I, like, only got six hours of sleep! Am I wrinkling?" Lily put her face forward for inspection.

As her sisters gave her the okay, Jenny tried to get them back on track.

"Your ladyships, all you need do is give the order…" She was cut off by Violet turning on a blow dryer. Steeling herself, Captain Jenny tried again. "The Rebels could well be-"

"Omigawd, look at this!" Cried Lily, who had a fashion magazine open in front of her. Her two sisters leaned in to have a look, dismissing any suspicion that any of them might have secretly been paying attention.

Daisy gagged at the model and the pokémon she was posing with that Lily pointed out. "Eeeew, talk about cellulite overload!" She said, despite the fact the pokémon was a Bellsprout, and the model was as thin as it was.

Jenny weighed up the advantages of an impromptu coup. Her fingers were hovering over her old police pistol, when the hall doors burst open with such force that many of the marines at her back almost broke rank.

Running into what once was the Gym's attic, calling back behind her was the woman that Jenny wished had retained the title Gym-leader rather than passing it on to her incompetent siblings, Misty Waterflower.

"Ah-ha! Beat you fair and square!" She shouted with less restraint than Jenny would have liked from a war hero. She pointed defiantly at the man following her in at a swaggering pace.

"Congratulations," he sneered in a sarcastic tone. "You beat a Blastoise in a race with a Starmie."

The fact that Gary was making excuses confirmed to Misty that he hadn't let her win (Ash did the same thing) and she turned around to strut around the Gym hall in triumph when she noticed the arrayed soldiers.

"Oh, like, look who totally decided to show up after all!"

"Ma'am," begun Officer Jenny, saluting smartly, the company behind her mirroring her actions. Despite her less-than-graceful entrance, they were more than happy to see her over her sisters. "Are you alright? There was an explosion at Mount Moon."

Misty, blushing a tad and a little shocked, saluted back – though her heart wasn't in it. "Ah, I'm fine. I came by sea."

Officer Jenny nodded. Naturally. She dropped her salute, allowing the rest of the corps do the same. "At ease!" She shouted back at the soldiers. Gary smirked at them all, knowing that he was able to move as he pleased. Officer Jenny eyed the armed man. She was wary of him, but if he weren't on their side, he'd have started shooting by now. "I was just trying to convince the Gym-leaders that we should investigate the explosion. If there is danger to-"

"Oh, like, stop being such a total sourpuss, Jenny." Cut in Daisy as the three leaders rose to greet their sister. Officer Jenny clenched her teeth.

Watching the three of them encircle Misty, Gary was shocked. Misty's three sisters, the legendary 'Sensational Sisters of Cerulean', were stunning. They looked like models. Misty wasn't that bad on the eyes, but measuring against her three elder siblings was like setting a Geodude up against a Tyranitar.

"You smell like, horrible." Was the first thing Lily said to her. "Have you been sleeping in, like, a pile of old socks?"

Misty forced out a crooked smile that was far less than a smile. "Good to see you too." She muttered.

Daisy had her eyes on Gary. "I can't believe, like, you picked some guy up – you naughty runt, you!" Misty's eyes almost burst as she tried to keep down her murderous intentions. "Hey, like, if you cleaned him up a little, he'd be quite cute…"

Her pitiful attempt to restrain her rage broken, Misty wheeled on her oldest sister. "I'm not a runt!" She screamed, acting like a fourteen year old. Behind her, Violet placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, which looked less like affection and more like an act of war.

"You, like, totally are!" She declared. "Why else would you have to, like, marry the first guy to offer?"

As the red-head quaked visibly with anger, Gary and Jenny exchanged a nervous glance. The Pallet trainer turned his eyes over the assembled troops, who were desperately looking like they couldn't see, hear, or sense what was happening in front of them.

"I'm… going to leave now." Said Captain Jenny, slowly taking a pace backward. "I'll send out that team to Mount Moon." She was ignored.

No one paid attention as she filed the marines out, Gary remaining behind to watch Misty physically holding her hand back from punching Violet for a comment about her 'gauche' shorts.

Observing their interactions, a giant puzzle piece fell into place in Gary's head, giving him a sudden glance over Misty's life as a whole. A sporty, imperfect girl growing up with three ridiculously beautiful older sisters – older sisters who seemed to get great pleasure from making fun of her 'inferiority'.

This made some sense of the disparity of between her feminine outbursts and butch history. Growing up the 'runt' probably made her so bitter she covered up her girly side with a tomboy persona.

Spurred by his insight, Gary braved the storm to announce himself.

"Hey, speaking of cleaning up, is there a bath around here?" He asked.

He immediately regretted it as they turned on him for intruding. For the first time seeing the family resemblance, Gary was struck simultaneously with four Waterflower glares. He withered back.

In some evil, undead fashion, they all lifted their hands and pointed out the way he'd entered, back outside. He immediately connected the dots and shyly withdrew. The moment he was out of sight, the three of them resumed their argument, an affair that involved great shouting.

-- --

Said shouting could even be heard outside, as Gary returned to where he'd left his pokémon. Eevee was jumping around in the water, and Blastoise looked to be having a…

"BLAST!" The turtle cried, seeing his master return to them. Eevee stopped and turned too

"Ee?"

"Inside, fighting her sisters." Gary explained, ignoring the dog's confused look and setting his weapons down on the sloping surface. He then peeled off his long grey shirt. "Hey, I'm coming in."

Eevee bounced up and down excitedly while Gary stripped down to his boxers. He realised he was about to bathe in what counted as the street, so he thought a little decency was necessary. There was no need to summon his other pokémon; the rest all hated water anyway.

The curved dome that was all that was left above water was slippery while wet, so Gary had to ease his way in. Someone seemed to scrub the area regularly, but there was still some algae to be careful of. Finally sliding into deep water, Gary immediately dove under.

Emerging out away from the building, Gary flattened his soaked hair back out of his eyes. He hardly felt the cold, having spent so long in the mountains, but it was refreshing to finally be able to wash off the accumulated filth from the hike.

"Hey, let's see if I can pollute all of Cerulean!" He said to his pokémon, who chuckled. Eevee knelt down and scooped up some water in his mouth. Gary was puzzled, which only made Blaistoise laugh harder when Eevee squirted the water into his master's face.

Wiping the water from his eyes, Gary gave Eevee a friendly glare. "Oh, I bet you think that water gun of yours is funny, right?" Eevee nodded exaggeratedly.

"Eeee!"

"Heh, I'm gonna get you for that!" Gary swam swiftly over to the small pup, who braced himself to dart out of his master's grasp. There was no need, as Blastoise reached out with a giant hand and dunked Gary.

Gary came up for air and laughter, punching the monstrous turtle in the arm happily (actually punching him would break his hand). Easing back and floating a moment, Gary sighed. This was fun. Perhaps a short break was a good idea before marching on to the Indigo Plateau. All of his pokémon deserved it – they'll just have to continue the break somewhere where they could all join in.

His reflection was shattered when Eevee jumped on his stomach.

"Don't think I've forgotten about you!" He cried, wrestling the brown dog into the water.

The three of them alternatively roughhoused and floated relaxedly as schools of Magikarp and Tentacool crossed traffic underneath them. Occasionally a civilian would swim by going about their business, or one of the regular marine patrols would do their rounds, riding on reigned Seadra.

Eevee had been employing his 'water gun' to tease a small Krabby scuttling over the Gym's dome to the cheers of his comrades when Misty appeared from the hatch-like entrance. Gary smirked at her as she approached.

"Ha, have fun?" He asked, ignoring the look Misty gave him.

"Shut up." She shouted darkly, then came up to his pile of clothes, weapons and pokéballs and lightened her tone. "I see you haven't been eaten by a Sharpedo yet."

At the mention of the vicious sea predator, Gary paled and looked down into the opaque depths desperately. Misty laughed.

"Oh, I'm sure a master trainer like you needn't fear something so common as a wild pokémon."

Gary glowered. "Hey, shut up." Misty was prodding his gear with her foot. "What are you doing?"

Misty stopped and smiled. "Nothing. I might join you – I smell like a Muk." She tugged the wads of tissue from her nose and pulled off her shirt, much to Gary's shock.

"Hey, woah-" he cried, raising his hands in a half-hearted attempt not to look. He stopped himself when he saw what she was wearing underneath. "Swimmers. You wear swimmers as underwear."

Misty shrugged. "It's comfortable." Gary and Eevee's looks were both disgusted and unbelieving – even Blastoise, the water pokémon, looked unconvinced. Gary was about to say something snide, but shivered suddenly.

"Hey, has it gotten colder out here?" He asked, Misty's bizarre dressing habits forgotten. She felt a chill as well and looked around.

"Yeah, you're right. What's…" She trailed off as she saw a cloud of mist moving down the waterways towards them. She stared a moment as Gary noticed it to. It seemed to be coming towards them, like it was being produced by… Misty figured it out. Her eyes burst wide. "Oh, crap!"

Gary turned to see what was wrong, but she pointed behind the building across the street and shouted. "Quick, hide back there!" Gary hated taking orders, but the urgency in her voice convinced him to oblige her, especially as she was basically his guide in this now unfamiliar region.

As the reddish-brown-haired trainer swum away, Misty glanced down. There was a sword and an assault rifle at her feet – very suspicious. She'd notice that instantly. Kicking a pokéball to Gary, who caught it easily and recalled Blastoise, she snatched up the weapons and tossed them behind a nearby Seel statue. They weren't perfectly out of sight, but it would have to do…

Hardly a second after she'd managed to hide as much as she could the source of the cold mist came around the corner. It was a tall woman in a business suit, saddled broadly over the back of a pale-blue Lapras. Rather than swimming, the Lapras saw fit to freeze the water before it with a constant ice beam and slide along, throwing up an icy cloud. As they came closer, the temperature plummeted, but Misty forced herself not to clutch her arms for warmth.

Gary subtly glanced from behind a mound of flotsam, unaware of Eevee joining him. It was fortunate that they were so accustomed to the cold, or they would be having serious problems right now. Squinted at the blue-haired woman, recognising her famous face easily – Lorelei, First Member of the Elite Four.

Lorelei did not spot the unseen observer, focussing her attention only on the topless Misty looking up at her.

"Must you trash my already ruined city every time you come here?" Misty opened, playing up an image of strength and calm – anything less and the Ice Queen would jump at the opening and rip her apart. The Lapras came to a halt in front of them.

"Misty Waterflower." The Elite Trainer greeted, slipping off her Lapras and onto the platform of ice, and ignoring her barb. Misty scowled.

"That's Misty Ketchum."

"Of course, excuse me." Flatly responded Lorelei, looking down her glasses at the water trainer with faint disdain. Misty couldn't help but question why she idolised this trainer so much when she was young. The other woman was regarding Misty's shirt strewn on the ground. "I had no idea you were so… loose."

Resisting the urge to cross her arms over her chest, Misty answered without missing a beat. "I was just about to go for a bath."

Lorelei didn't let anything in her expression betray her thoughts, including whether she detected the repulsive smell Misty was giving off. She glanced down at Gary's clothes at Misty's feet. "And these?"

"Daisy's boyfriend is here. You know how they can be."

Doubtless the Ice Master didn't, but she stared belatedly. It was all Misty could do not to hold her breathe. Lorelei had a famously sharp mind, and who knew what connections she was making inside…

The blue-haired woman dropped the line of questioning suddenly. However, she let her eyes wonder a moment, her Lapras glancing around as well. Gary had the good sense to drift out of sight before she could see anything more suspicious.

"What do you want?" Said Misty in irritation. The Elite Four member's superior attitude was getting on her nerves, especially since she had no right to be treating Misty like this. Lorelei, who hadn't moved anything other than her head since dismounting, looked back down at her.

"I assumed the Champion would want to know if you were unharmed, since the explosion at Mount Moon."

"I didn't come by that way, so I'm fine." Misty replied. "If you care, there wasn't much damage to Cerulean either, since most of the debris fell in the water. It was mainly our outposts that suffered." Gary assumed she got that information from inside.

"So the costs are negligible." Summarised Lorelei in a way that Misty wasn't comfortable with. "Very well, I am… relieved that you are here and… out of trouble." She concluded, in a warning undertone that Misty zoomed in on instantly.

Turning to look around one final time – Gary ducking his head back quickly – Lorelei climbed up onto Lapras' back again. She glanced once more in his direction, but he dropped under water, sure that she hadn't seen him. Her giant pokémon edged back the way it came, then with a powerful push of its flippers, slid back along its road of ice. Misty watched silently as the pair vanished back around the corner.

The moment they disappeared, she let out a sigh of relief and collapsed to the ground as if the tension had been the only thing keeping her upright. Gary swam out from his hiding place and around the ice block, Eevee with him.

"That was Lorelei, the Ice Queen, hey?"

"More like the ice bitch." Misty commented darkly, leaning back. "She's the League's go-to girl. And I think she might suspect that I'm up to something."

Gary, who still didn't grasp the big picture, was unsure if she was. "Are you?" When Misty didn't respond, he pushed. "You've got to explain this to me still."

"Later." Misty said, a headache coming on. She fell backward to the ground from her kneeling position, feet by her thighs. She groaned lightly.

"Eee?" Asked Eevee, but no one responded. Gary did not feel in any sort of danger, so he was happy to wait for an answer. Drawing himself out of the water, he went to grab his clothes up. Eevee, despite being ignored, took it good-naturedly and decided to splash around some more.

Noticing Gary coming close in her peripheral vision, Misty spoke up. "Hey, do you still have that broken pokéball?" Gary's eyes asked what she meant. "You know, the one broken in half?"

Understanding, Gary silently reached into his pokéballs and took out one half of one, tossing it to Misty so she could have a look. She held it up and examined it.

"Ash still has his half, you know." He kept it in his trophy room, along with all his various baseball caps, the special lure Misty gave him, and other memorabilia from his life of adventure. Gary looked at his half nostalgically.

"Do you know the story behind it?" He asked as Misty pawed over the symbol of his first draw (and therefore first loss). Gary had never told anyone, but then again, he wasn't married.

"Yeah – back you were both still friends and decided to become pokémon masters, you found a pokéball, fought over it, and it broke in half." She threw the white side of the ball back to Gary, who replaced it. She shielded her eyes from the sun. "You guys have such stupid things to think of each other by. My lure's much better."

Gary looked confused. "Lure?"

Misty waved her hand absently. "Long story."

Shrugging, Gary moved to the water again with his clothes and started washing them. Eevee played merrily and did not help in the least. Turning her head, Misty watched the disrobed Gary work with some fascination. More accurately, she watched his toned muscles with great fascination.

He was lithe but strong, sinews snapping with quick power. Hairier than the baby-smooth Ash, and slashed with the occasional scar, he had a wild-man appeal that yoked well with his unbridled arrogance. The cocky attitude and obvious strength made him alluring in some dark fashion. She stared too long, and Gary, who was used to girls checking him out, noticed.

"Ha, admiring the view?" He said, flexing cockily, surreptitiously taking the opportunity to roll his eyes over her. She was long and soft, but her broad shoulders and strong legs betrayed her physical prowess. He was used to less powerful girls. Her round face had stiffened since her youth, lending to her a more mature look, and ditching the sideways ponytail had been a smart move. In all, she wasn't a bad piece of work.

Misty, unaware of this analysis, snorted, then smiled.

"I was just thinking how buffer Ash is." She said with a sweet tone, knowing it would cheese him off. Indeed, Gary's smile plummeted from his face.

"You're kidding". Misty shook her head, and, energised by Gary's shock, stood up again. "At least tell me I've still got a few inches on him."

Ash was eye-level with Misty's nose, and Gary was about two inches taller than her… "I think you've got five inches."

Standing up straight, Gary used his hand to approximate where Ash came to. It was just above his chin. This made him smile. "Ha, awesome."

Slipping off her shorts, Misty walked into the water. "I'm going to take a bath, so take your washing elsewhere." She said so nicely that Gary almost missed it was a command. His first instinct was to stay in spite of her – besides, it was more like a swim than a bath. But he shrugged, and gathered up his garments in his arms, always a sucker for a pretty lady – especially half-naked ones.

Whistling to Eevee, Gary set off, but Misty spoke up again.

"Gary…" She began hesitantly, calf-deep in the lake. He stopped. "Just so we're straight - you… you are here to fight him, right?"

The Pallet Trainer looked down at his necklace settled on top of his grey shirt. No point lying – she already knew. "Yeah."

She seemed to have more to say, but thought better of asking. "Right, thought so."

The ensuing silence told Gary he should leave.

-- --

"Alright, babies!" Bellowed Lt. Surge at his subordinates. Surge was a tall, wall-like man with a hard, entrenched face. He kept his stark blonde hair in a crew cut, in keeping with his military fatigues.

A large platoon of camouflage-clad soldiers stood at rigid attention, yellow thunderbolts emblazoning their uniforms. At Surge's colossal feet, his Raichu imitated his actions straight-faced, though no one dared giggle. "Salute!"

"Rai-CHU!" Echoed Raichu's throaty voice.

As one, the entire unit saluted towards the large podium set up in the middle of the Vermillion City parade ground. As a black-clad man in a long cape ascended to the lectern, Lt. Surge joined his men. Somewhat ridiculously, the man sported a dark cap, which he grabbed, hand bobbing, as if trying to decide whether to do something with it. Eventually, he let it be.

Returning salute to the assembled men, he ordered them at ease. Scurrying up to his feet was a small Pikachu, which climbed expertly up his legs and onto the steely lecturn. The Champion didn't notice.

"Noble people of Vermillion City!" He declared in his raspy voice. "You are a city that has always prided itself on power – in its trainers, in its plants, and in its policy." The Champion spread out a hand dramatically. "Today I share with you the secret of power!"

Sitting non-chalantly, Pikachu cast his eyes around in boredom. They hooked onto the sight of the Raichu, standing at attention by his master, looking so serious despite his pudgy, cute appearance. Pikachu's eyes narrowed. He so hated Raichus…

Above his pokémon, the Champion continued his speech. "There is a sacred bond between a trainer and his pokémon. They vow to fight together, lending each other's strength, so that they might together take victory and glory." He emphasised the point by clutching his hand powerfully. "That is true power. That is true strength. That is the principle upon which the League is founded."

Pikachu looked up at his master, but not out of surprise. He had heard all this, if a lot less eloquently, from the Champion's mouth before. He knew it was true – as one of his actual pokémon, he could attest that the Champion acted as the great Kanto Trainer, wielding each city like a pokéball. Every soldier, trainer and pokémon unleashed from them were his great armies, engaging with their foes and seizing the prize.

"Keep these things close to your heart," the Champion advised, raising a warning finger. "For this principle is what will make Kanto great – the greatest nation on the planet." He spread his arms wide emphatically. "We will be the very best – the best there ever was!"

The Vermillion troops in front of him suddenly burst out into a roar, throwing up their fists. The Champion basked in the glory calmly, while Surge desperately tried to restore military discipline, and Pikachu yawned. 

At the sidelines, watching the podium, May chewed her bangs disinterestedly. She didn't care much for the display of machismo, but Ash surprised her with the smooth speech. He was not known for public speaking. As she puzzled over the source of his newfound skill, there was a flash beside her and a man appeared.

She turned to see a new spectator, man in a ratty English coat and pauper's gloves, a scarf wrapped neatly around his neck. His head of wavy hair, kept in geekish style, fell so long as to fall in the way of his intelligent spectacles. In all, the man was somewhere between a bookworm, a chimney sweep, and wizard.

"What are you doing here?" She asked Will, the Gym-Leader of Saffron City, without preamble.

He smiled roguishly, displaying more greasy charm and arrogance than a nerd had rights to. "I'm helping with the speech." Will answered. May squinted and let her hair drop from her mouth – Will explained. "The boss approached me with his speech and asked me to 'write it more better-like', so naturally I obliged." He danced his fingers like a puppet master. "I'm also… _assisting_ with his rhetorical ability."

So Ash was letting himself be controlled psychically so Will could give the speech through him. Probably the best way for him to do the job, May had to concede.

"Shouldn't you be running your city?" May asked, but Will rolled his eyes.

"Pfft." Was his only response. May huffed and turned her eyes back to Ash.

The psychic was silent for a while, and May suddenly became acutely aware that the man beside her was running his eyes all over her, causing her to almost regret dressing so temptingly. She ignored it as long as she could, but when she suddenly found the sci-fi aficionado with Harry Potter's dress sense unreasonably sexy, she realised the thought didn't originate with her.

"Get out of my head." She growled through clenched teeth. He just smiled disturbingly.

"Your head's not what I want to get into." Will commented, but when May started fishing around in her pouch for a pokéball, he threw up his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright I give. Can't blame a guy for trying, right?"

She was quite certain she could, and before she could inform him of as much, Ash completed his oration and made his way down from the podium, ignoring the cheers. He scratched the back of his head nervously while the soldiers were marched off behind him. "So, how was that?"

May smiled brightly and leant forward, trying to get her chest into his line of sight. "Oh Ash, it was wonderful!" Behind her Will scoffed.

"Pikaaa." Pikachu added, feeling his sentiment. Ash laughed at May's compliment in his vanity, and then turned to the psychic.

"Well, it's thanks to you!" Ash said, patting Will on the arm heartily. The bespectacled man's eyes clearly asked 'why is this man touching me?' "So," Ash continued, suddenly serious, hand gripping Will's shoulder. "What's the news?"

Will sighed and adjusted his glasses. "Well, a runner just came by from Lorelei. She says that Cerulean was not nearly so badly hit as Pewter, and the operation at the mountain is completely unsalvageable."

Ash hardly seemed to have listened. "And what about Misty?"

"The report said she was fine." Releasing him, The Champion stuck out his bottom lip and thought for a moment.

"Hm, do you think I should go see her?"

Pikachu was all for it, but May out-shouted him.

"NO, no need for that!" she said, grabbing his arm and pressing against it. Will and the electric rodent exchanged looks. Ash made no attempt to break free, and May dragged him off towards the Gym. "She's visiting family, right? She wouldn't want to be disturbed. We should just shack up here for the night." She blinked her pretty blues a few times. Ash may not have been putty in her hands, but she got her way this time.

Shoving his hands in his pockets and muttering, Will flashed white and teleported away. Ash directed their path towards the small arena of the Gym so as to see how Vermillion's famous electric-types stacked up, keen to get some entertainment in before anymore business. Pikachu sighed and chased after his master, resolving to thundershock-away any problems if things got out of hand.

-- --

There seemed to be some trouble brewing across the street. A group of Cerulean Marines were interrogating some petrified civilians, who had been torn from their rusted tin homes by force. Gary neither knew the story nor cared – he just watched for the novelty of it.

After getting his clothes relatively clean, he had laid them out to dry and done some exercise. His body screamed from the stress of the last two days, but self-discipline was practically the name of the game, so he launched into handstands and sword-drills and so on.

Hours of that had been enough, so he felt like he should relax and watch the sky darken, not compelled to even don his dried clothes yet. Eevee, who always felt the need to join in training sessions not even meant for him, was exhausted, napping by Gary's side while his trainer stroked his fur gently.

Misty hadn't appeared for some time, not that Gary minded. He was used to being alone, and these quiet hours of the twilight always held him in thrall.

Cautious steps came up behind him, and he turned to see his chance guide approach. She was dressed in new clothes – though another variation on the vest and short-shorts, Gary noted with exasperation, this one at least with a black undershirt. She'd done something with her hair – perhaps at her sister's bequest – and now it curled slight up towards her jaw. It was a mature look.

"You're looking reflective." She observed, something in her stance suggesting she had somewhere to take this conversation.

"I was thinking about your sisters." He laughed at her horrified expression. "One's blonde, one's pink, the other's blue and you're red – what's up with that?" He waggled his eyebrows. "Siblings shouldn't have that many hair colours between them."

"We're all redheads." She revealed without fanfare, crossing her arms against the late chill. "They dye their hair."

Gary was surprised that hair dye was still to be found in Kanto, given its practically third-world conditions at the moment, and he said as much. Misty shrugged.

"Black market. You pay through the nose, though."

Gary laughed again. "We redheads are so influential in this part of the world!"

Misty rolled her eyes. "You're not a redhead, Gary."

He rubbed a lock of his hair scientifically. "It's redd_ish_." The water trainer sighed in frustration and tightened her arms as a breeze picked.

"Aren't you cold?"

The trainer shrugged, but pulled on his clothes anyway. As he did so, Misty came and sat beside him.

"Okay, it's not fair that I haven't explained what's going on." She started in a tone that somehow suggested that he was at fault, and she was merely setting him straight. Gary was annoyed, but said nothing, sitting up and gently putting Eevee on his lap. "I've been trying to meet up with the Resistance. I would've the other day, but Falkner interrupted the rendezvous."

Stopping her with his raised hand, Gary stroked his chin with a smirk. "Alright, alright, let me guess… they're planning to have you kill Ash in his sleep or something."

Misty was horrified. "That's terrible!" She punched him in the arm, and it wasn't entirely a pretend punch, either. "I'm not betraying Ash, I'm turning on the League!"

Rubbing his arm, Gary gave Misty a disbelieving look. She went on to explain.

"I mean, I was there when we reformed the League. I helped, I was all for it." She looked out at the faintly lapping waters of Cerulean. The setting sun cast the low waves a shade of red, causing Misty to shiver. "We just wanted to stop the chaos of the wars…"

Gary looked sadly across at her. Stories and rumours had reached his ears of the anarchy that had erupted all over Kanto as different gangs, trainers and even Gyms had simultaneously decided to carve out their own little empires. The once renowned Indigo League was cut off from the rest of the civilised world by an invisible wall of violence – no government wanted to be involved with the pit of war Kanto became. Gary glanced down at his boots, guilty to have been on his journey at the time.

"I heard." He said lowly.

"But all we have now is petty tyrants forced into line by a bigger, pettier tyrant." She continued, thinking of all the plotting and political weaving that went on in the Indigo court. Independent of the Resistance, civil war could break out at any moment. "The League failed, and I have to stop it. But that's not Ash's fault." Misty turned suddenly and looked intensely into Gary's eyes. "Ash still thinks it can work, but he's wrong."

Disturbed by the strength of her eyes, Gary looked up at the fading sky. Again, he stung with guilt from leaving his homeland to suffer like this. He tried to form something to say, but Misty beat him to the punch.

"We need you, Gary. The Resistance needs you." She paused, marshalled some courage, and went on. "I need you." She gripped his shirtsleeve, hoping not to appear too desperate. "_Ash_ needs you."

The mention of his old rival and older friend snared Gary's attention completely. He returned her look, this time with equal intensity. "We can end this nightmare and save Ash. We can do them both – if you're with us." Misty whispered.

Lots of thoughts and emotions were tumbling around in Gary's chest, and he remained very silent. Suddenly it was so clear why this girl who never even liked him very much suddenly became so chummy upon meeting him – she needed to use him. But really, did that matter? He didn't need her or the Rebellion to get what he wanted – but it looked to be an interesting story.

Seeing Misty's fierce dedication to her husband, however reminded Gary for the first time since his early teens of how different he and Ash were – Ash had married his childhood sweetheart, while Gary never had a relationship last longer than two months. He shifted uncomfortably – did that _mean_ something?

But this talk of saving Ash… if anyone didn't need saving, it was Ash. In fact, the whole point of Gary leaving, going through those hellish travels and returning again was to become strong enough to bring him down. Misty had to know that, though. What was this about?

Seeing Gary not respond and withdraw within himself, Misty let go of his shirt and collect herself. "Sorry, this is very sudden." She said, keeping her voice down as she saw Eevee stir a little. "There's no pressure – I'm leaving tomorrow to meet them at Lavender. You can come along and see what you think, if you want."

A minute passed before Gary nodded slightly. Sighing, trying to keep her high hopes from blowing out of control, Misty stood up and headed inside, leaving the Pallet trainer to watch the disturbingly red water.

-- --

"She was hiding something." Lorelei said, looking down on Cerulean from the hill she had regrouped with Blaine and Jasmine on. "There was a man with her, trying to hide from view."

Blaine rubbed his chin, unconvinced that he should be concerned. "Alternative Explanation: She had a gentleman caller, and feared the Champion's wrath if he found out."

Standing respectfully aside, Jasmine thought that made sense. It explained why Lady Misty was always making these 'family visits' to sisters she famously hated. The ninja's purple eyes darted back to Lorelei as she shook her head.

"I doubt it. An affair could be conducted secretly without this much travel. It is becoming increasingly clear that it was a wise move not to trust her."

Jasmine, hoping to contribute, spoke up. "Do you want me to watch her?"

"No, that's not necessary." Lorelei responded, turning around and walking down to their tents – huge things, scuttled from destroyed circuses to accommodate the necessary opulence that pursued a Gym-Leader. "If she remains here, she remains a non-threat. If she leaves, we'll soon hear of it."

Before Jasmine could ask 'how?', Lorelei was already gone. Grimacing, she turned to Blaine next to her, who was still turning things over in his ever-churning mind.

"Misty Ketchum is our only real lead – is it alright to leave her like this?" She asked, mistakenly believing that Blaine had equal command of the operation. The old man laughed and rubbed his moustache delightedly.

"Young Lady, your answer: We're not leaving anyone. She'll come to us!"

-

-

**Author's notes:**

I think that my notions of distance and the passage of time are rather warped in this fic. I recommend just going with the flow.

Do you see what I mean about 'lesser characters' being a bit OOC?

Please read and review!


	4. And the Past Walked Up to Us

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Pokémon. If I did, I'd be rich. But I don't, and I'm not, so please don't sue me Nintendo.

.

**Grasping the Moon**

Chapter 4 – And The Past Walked Up To Us

"I can't believe this…" Misty growled, kicking a rock petulantly.

Gary groaned and threw up his hands, stopping in the middle of the path. They were currently en route to Lavender, sticking to the northern route in the wild to avoid any suspicious League eyes. "Oh, whinge whinge, I hate my sisters, blah blah blah!" He cried out. "At least we're gone! Stop complaining!"

"But look at this!" Misty responded, swinging off her backpack and opening it on the ground. "Health shakes! Rice crackers! Lettuce! This won't last us a day!" She looked up, as if at Gary, but fury blocked her vision. Eevee sauntered over to her pack. "Can you believe they actually said I was looking 'tubby'?!"

Eevee sniffed the health food, wondering what the fuss was about. Unmindful of eating someone else's food, he nibbled at some sort of grainy cake. He baulked and spat it out.

Gary sighed. It was obvious to everyone that Misty didn't need a diet – to Gary she looked like a rake with clothes draped over it – but he didn't need to hear about the fact for the rest of their trip. "Don't worry, I've got food."

Misty examined him suspiciously. The only thing he was carry was his sword and that useless rifle (he hadn't even offered to take her bag – hmph!), so where was he keeping the food? She raised an eyebrow as he pulled out an orange pokéball.

Her first thought was that he kept pokémon for eating. "If that's a Magikarp, they taste horrible."

Giving her an annoyed looked, Gary explained. "Just because Kanto's become a technological throwback, doesn't mean the rest of the world's frozen as well." He cracked open the ball, and a stream of blue light poured out. In a flash, there was a pile of canned food in front of them, along with some basic cookery utensils.

Jumping up and abandoning her bag to Eevee, Misty rushed over.

"That's amazing!" She cried, examining the food with such intensity that her nose was barely an inch from the cans. "These aren't even pokémon!"

Rubbing his eyes, Gary repressed his urge to scream. "No, the stack of cans is not a pokémon." Gary said in a measured tone, wondering if some of Ash's cluelessness had come off on Misty. "This ball can store inanimate objects."

The former Cerulean Gym Leader looked up at him with a stunned look in her eyes. "Everyone uses these out there?" She asked, both amazed and horrified.

"Well," Gary confessed, spinning the ball on his finger. "Not everyone. No one's meant to have one yet." A sly smirk crossed his face, and he revealed no more of the tale.

They were interrupted by a delighted squeak, and they turned to see Eevee rolling around in Misty's pack. Grumbling that he'd mess up its meticulously ordered contents, she walked over to remove the playing dog. Gary took the opportunity to look up at the sun.

"We should be able to get a few more hours of hiking in before we make camp." He declared, and Misty returned, bag over her shoulder and a shameless Eevee in her arms.

"Super-advanced-pokéball-thing and you don't have a watch?" She said, eyebrow cocked. Gary grimaced.

"Hilarious." He said while she twittered her head in silent mocking laughter, setting Eevee on the ground. "We should probably sleep deep off road."

With a wave of her hand she dismissed the notion. "No need, nobody really patrols around here, and if they did, it'd be the Cerulean Gym. We're good."

Gary, who had just returned from a years-long tour of violence just to prepare for one fight, wasn't the type of person to take chances, so he was about argue back when they were interrupted. Again, it was Eevee, who had charged ahead of them and 'ee'-ing for them to hurry up.

Rolling his eyes, Gary sucked the food back into its ball. "C'mon, lets go. We can't keep his _majesty_ waiting…" He said sarcastically.

As they set off, Misty glanced around the bright terrain, suddenly nostalgic about her travelling days as a child. She wondered what Ash was doing right now…

-- --

"Heeeey," May hummed, leaning over in a… provocative fashion. "Watcha doing?"

Surge, who had been in conversation with one of his seconds, turned a shocked look down at the woman who had suddenly sunk up on him. To his credit, he made some attempt not to let his eyes wander.

"Ahh," he began intelligently. "We were just discussing new training exercises for the Gym… ma'am." He ended, suddenly realising their difference in rank. The officer he had been speaking with, who was a woman, squared her shoulders in annoyance.

"Oh, how fascinating!" May lied through her teeth, looping her arms around Surge's much larger one. Despite her success, deep down she really wasn't all that interested in pokémon and their martial applications. "But, hey, we've been working so hard, maybe we should have a break!"

The giant American started to protest, but May pulled him away from the other soldier and her clipboard. He was helpless to resist. "I thought that you and the Champion would be leaving after the speech?"

May laughed daintily and touched his chest, sending thrills through his body, she knew. Pulling a man's strings was so easy it was a wonder she never got bored with it, but after her repeated failures on Ash, she needed a little ego burst. "Oh, he's sticking around for a little 'business' until late tomorrow." She said, saying the word with some disdain. The woman glanced up at the man under her spell slyly. "But what say we ditch work for the markets and get some shopping in?"

"S-sure." Stuttered Surge despite himself. Considering both his and May's position, shopping was entirely pointless, since they could simply demand anything they want, but it was so much more fun to manipulate someone into doing something for you. The satisfaction was in the teasing, not in the getting. That was the sort of power you couldn't get from having small creatures beat on each other.

The female officer fumed as the two walked away, forgetting her entirely. Catching her tongue, she straightened up and turned around, marching off in a huff. May watched her go from the corner of her eye.

_Bye-bye, competition_, She thought. _Another flawless victory for May…_

"So, why are you still called 'Lieutenant'?" May asked the giant she was pressed against. He scratched his ear nervously.

"Well, it's not so great a story…" He explained, unable to keep anything from her. Hardly even listening, May smiled contentedly at her own strength.

-- --

After an uneventful evening camping under the stars, Gary, Misty and Eevee found themselves with a problem.

"Ah, nuts." Said Misty, looking down at the hole. It was pitch black inside. "I forgot about the Rock Tunnel."

Lifting his brown eyebrows, Gary stared at her. "And you've lived here how long? I've been gone, like, seven years or something and _I_ remembered."

Ignoring him, Misty touched her chin in thought. "It's not a terribly creative name, is it? Rock Tunnel – the tunnel made of rocks." Gary rolled his eyes.

"They can't all be winners. C'mon, let's get moving."

As he made to enter the hole, Eevee following, Misty stopped him. "Wait, what are you doing?" She cried. The two of them looked at her. "We don't have any pokémon who know Flash!"

Silently, Gary reached around his side and withdrew a large flashlight. Misty went red.

"Oh. That'll work."

They followed the artificial beam of light into the underground eternal night. The dark was so think here that it seemed to have substance, consuming the light from its entrance and even from the ends of Gary's torch.

"Careful, it's still hard to see." The tall trainer warned, walking in front.

Misty shivered and wished that she had packed something warmer to wear. "This place gives me the creeps."

"Eeee. Ee-vee." Agreed Eevee on the ground in front of her.

A scurrying sound caught their attention, and Gary swung his light to see the tail of a retreating Rattata. He searched for where it fled to, but it was gone.

"Poor thing, suck underground all its life." Misty commented as they wordlessly set off again. "It's bad enough for us having to travel through here for a few days!"

"A few days?" broke in Gary, his nasal voice high in disbelief. "This only takes a few hours!"

Misty was confused. "But it always took us days to pass through here!"

"Didn't you follow the shortcut?"

"Short… cut?" She drawled out, and then hung her head in exasperation. Trust Ash and Brock, with their horrible navigation skills, to turn a several-hour journey into a subterranean epic.

Gary snickered and they went on for some ways without speaking, save Eevee, who hummed his own name cheerfully to his footsteps. They stuck close so that no one got lost, both having enough scarring experiences of that nature already in their lives.

The inability to see anything save a circle of brightness right in front of them was quite disturbing, especially for Misty, who wanted to be out as soon as possible. If a rock were to pop up right in front of her toe, she wouldn't see it until her nose was in the dirt. It was a closed, claustrophobic feeling.

Suddenly, Gary stopped.

"_Hel_-lo…" he exclaimed.

Poking her head around the silhouette in front of her, Misty saw that her companion had focused the beam on some fungus in front of him. It didn't seem particularly interesting to her, beyond being icky.

"What's the hold up?" She asked lightly, though her strained tone betrayed her near-explosive impatience.

Gary crotched down. "This sort of growth isn't native around here." He stated, and Misty remembered his strong scientific background. "It must have been cultivated."

"Cultivated? But by whom?"

Misty glanced around the sheer darkness in thought. There were all those throwaway ghost stories about this place… She noticed Gary reaching down to touch the fungus, and shocked at the thought of handling something that could very well be poisonous, Misty bent down to stop him…

… barely dodging a sudden poison sting attack that passed over her shoulder and into the black beyond her. A distant crack suggested the shot had chipped the rock walls. Gary sprang back in shock while Misty threw herself to the ground.

Something big and bulbous launched out of nowhere and knocked the torch from Gary's hand. It skidded across the ground, hitting itself off.

Without missing a beat, Gary had a pokéball out. "Arcanine, Go!"

In a flash of red light, a human-height hound appeared, its fur a coat of licking flames. The light from its flaming hide immediately illuminated the area, revealing only rocks and deep shadows.

"You had an Arcanine!?" Misty screamed, incredulous, uncovering her head. "I swear, you're just like Ash…"

Gary had no time to work out how he felt about that remark, as he was scanning carefully for whatever had attacked them. It was not likely to retreat immediately, and he wanted to see if it was a feisty wild pokémon or something he should be more careful of…

"You should not have entered." A quavering, insubstantial voice floated around the tunnel. With all the echoes, it was hard to tell where it was coming from. "This is a bad place."

Squinting his eyes, he looked again for someone to lock onto. He saw it the same time as Misty – a hunching woman in the cleft of a rock, almost invisible in the shadows. She was wrapped in torn, old robes, and her face was covered in long, deep green hair.

"This is a bad place," she repeated, and then licked her parched lips. "And I am its keeper."

The moment the words left her lips, what they thought was a rock burst towards them. It had a body like a giant mushroom and pointed pincers, with which it was trying to skewer Gary. The trainer had his sword out and batted the Parasect past him with its hilt.

"Arcanine, Ember!" He cried as it passed, and his burning dog pokémon roared, spewing a fiery pellet from its gut. The Parasect rolled out of the way and disappeared between the stones and shadows.

Gary spun and pointed his gun at the girl, who was no longer there. Misty saw her, hooked crookedly over a stalagmite.

"Who are you?" She asked. The girl didn't move, her face still hidden from view.

"I am Cassandra." She said in a hoarse voice. The ghoulish figure obviously hadn't spoken in a long time. "I see things."

Between the two travelling trainers, Arcanine was firing embers whenever the fungus pokemon appeared to shoot a poison sting, burning up the sting but never striking the target. Cassandra ignored both pokémon, though the bursts of flame cast scarce light over her hair.

"I saw too many things, and I came down here to see no more." She whispered, refusing to move from her spot.

A slight smell tinged Gary's nostrils and he looked around. In the dim light of Arcanine's flame, he could see some sort of gas spilling over the floor. As the smell strengthened, he realised that it was a cloud of spores, doubtless emitted by the Parasect. He jumped when he further discerned that the cloud would explode when it contacted with Arcanine's burning fur.

He grabbed Misty's arm hard. "Let's go!" He cried, and they darted forward into the dark, Arcanine galloping with them. Cassandra didn't even look up as they fled.

They didn't go far when Misty noticed there was no patter of small paws with them.

"Where's Eevee?" She urgently spouted, causing Gary to skid to a halt and turn. There was just enough light from Arcanine to see Eevee still in the middle of the cloud, rocking drunkenly. He'd obviously taken a bad hit of the spores.

"Eevee!" He screamed, letting go of Misty and running back, covering his mouth and nose with his sleeve.

He leapt straight into the cloud, rolling to a stop right by the small dog's side. Holding his breath, he swept up his pokémon and cradled its small frame in his arm, covering his mouth again. Eyes darting around, Gary ignored the immobile woman, and spotted a strange coloured growth protruding from behind a rock.

Launching forward again, he cleared the boulder and landed on top of the Parasect on the other side, driving his sword down on top of it as he did so. The blade went right through the pokémon's mushroom body and into the rock below, pinning the creature. There was no blood from the wound, as the creature was made from spongy mould, but it gave a shrill cry as it felt the pain.

Without pause, Gary pulled off his rifle and slammed the butt one handed into the Parasect's 'head'. It gargled, and without mercy Gary repeated the blow, again and again, hoping to stop it pouring forth the thickening fumes. There was no protest from the pokémon's 'trainer'.

A sudden wind blew over them, clearing away the cloud. Looking over the boulder he'd leapt, he saw that Arcanine had held back – presumably fearful of the gas – and Misty, who had her Starmie out. She had ordered her pokémon to spin like a fan.

He dropped Eevee on the ground, the pup woozy and falling to the floor, and left the crushed Parasect, wrenching his sword out hard, without concern for the creature's squeal. Quietly burning with rage, he advanced on the night-dwelling trainer, ignoring Misty start forward at his fury. Heedless that Cassandra was a woman, he grabbed her by her aged clothes and slammed her into the rock walls, sword at her throat.

Gary was quite prepared to kill her then and there for daring to hurt Eevee, but Misty had her hands on his arm, holding back the killing blow.

"No!" She cried, eyes watering. "Don't kill her! Let's just go!"

Misty's strangely emotional display gave Gary pause, and he looked down at Cassandra, who hadn't given any fight. Now close, he could see in Arcanine's light that the woman's eyes were white like a faded moon – she was blind.

He quaked in decision, took a hard breath, and then forced himself to lower his sword. Killing people was the worst part of a fight anyway.

Misty relaxed, but Gary still pressed Cassandra against the wall. The woman suddenly became animated, clutching at Gary's arm.

"Don't go!" She whispered forcefully. "Do not go, Gary Oak! You cannot win."

Gary was a little stunned that she knew who he was, but didn't betray it on his face. Arcanine and Misty watched with interest. She continued her crooning.

"You cannot win, Gary Oak." She repeated, dropping her hand. "You cannot change your stars."

"I don't believe in destiny." Stated Gary, earning him a glance from Misty. "I don't give a Pidgey's feather what the stars say."

Dropping the sibyl, Gary turned and scooped up Eevee. Cassandra slid to the ground as he recalled Arcanine without a word, collected his flashlight and left. Misty broke out of her trance and recalled her Starmie after a mumbled word of thanks, then chased Gary, leaving Cassandra alone in the dark.

-- --

Long after they left, Cassandra remained where she had fallen on the ground. She didn't go over to Parasect – the pokémon would heal. Made of fungus, it could regenerate almost any sort of damage. That didn't matter, however. Cassandra had delivered her last message, another destined never to be heeded, and now it was time for things to come to an end.

Slow, crisp footsteps echoed down the tunnels, closing in on her. The sharp sound was created by high heels, and Cassandra cringed as she realised who had come to finish her wasted life – The Devil herself.

The steps came closer and, with the rustle of silk, stopped right in front of her. She had no difficulty seeing in the dark.

"Well, here's an old face." She spoke, voice somewhere between husky and hateful. A second set of footsteps appear, this time the four legs of some sort of pokémon. As it came to its master's side, it started huffing like a dog.

Cassandra was choking back tears. "I never wanted this." She hissed. "It's not right to kill me, not after they spared my life."

"Oh I know," came the reply. Her dog-pokémon started to growl with pleasure. "But that's what makes this so enjoyable."

Even to through the highest points of pain to her death, Cassandra didn't once scream. And so the last member of the Night Gym faded from existence without so much as a cry.

-- --

Gary and Misty made haste the rest of the way out; completely silent, Misty carrying the torch while Gary held Eevee. Eventually, the exit appeared, the light streaming through it making it glow like the moon in the night sky. Bursting through, they came at last to the cliffs overlooking Lavender town.

As soon as they came again into daylight, Gary opened up his carrying-ball. Among all his food he kept medical supplies, and soon he had an all-purpose antidote for Eevee. As he applied it to the feverish pokémon, Misty looked down at the remains of Lavender's once famous radio tower. During the wars, it had been a prime target for attack and fell quickly, destroying any value the town of Lavender may once have had.

Long ago – in her early teens – the tower had been a tomb for dead pokémon, and was the root of thousands of ghost sightings, not to mention a haunt for ghost pokémon. Now the tower itself was nothing more than a desecrated grave, its girders and pillars strewn about in loose fashion.

Turning her eyes over Lavender itself, she could see that the death of the tower seemed to have killed the town as well. It was a ghost town, streets empty and deathly quiet. Nothing stirred at all, and the only movement was the wind blowing up dust and the branches.

Misty breathed deeply and listened. There were no sounds – no Pidgey's calling, no Rattatas chittering, not even a vile bug pokémon creaking. It was so easy to believe that nothing lived here.

Gary stood up and Misty turned back to him. Eevee was standing by his feet, but his balance was off.

"Will he be okay?" She asked, breaking their silence.

"Should be." Gary answered, running a hand through his hair then calling back his supplies. "Nothing permanent at least. He'll be fine tomorrow."

Nodding slowly, Misty looked out over Lavender again, searching for her contacts. She didn't see anyone at all, let alone someone she'd recognise.

"Let's head down."

They started off, but Gary slipped a little. Watching himself right himself, Misty wondered if he was starting to feel the affect of the spores himself.

"Are_ you _alright?" Misty asked. Gary waved his hand and didn't let her show any concern.

They descended the rest mountain path with only the chilling wind as conversation. The creepy silence and growing sense of dread drove Misty to speak up.

"It's quiet…" She said, for want of anything useful to bring up.

Gary listened out and agreed. "Yeah. Hey, what happened here? This place was never party-central, by I at least expected people…"

"A lot of bad things happened around here. Nobody considered this place useful, so no one felt bad pulling all the stops during the first wars." They continued to talk as they came to the end of the path and approached the town proper. "And, of course, there was all the nastiness south of here…" Misty trailed off.

Gary looked around the streets. They really were empty – all the houses were boarded up, dark inside. There were gutted cars littering the street and many store windows were shattered. There was not a breath of a human soul. Eevee, still weary, stuck close to Gary's side.

A scuttled sound drew their attention, and they glanced down an alleyway, hands on weapons. What may have been a Rattata scavenging for food darted away. Their hands slowly fell.

"So, did everyone clear out of town or something?"

"No, people still live here." Misty glanced left and right, then reconsidered what she'd been told. "At least, that's what they say. People are scared to leave their houses."

"Scared? Why?"

"The dead." Answered Misty, eyes falling to the disused road. Eevee shivered. "Ghosts and memories and all that. Weird things happen around here; at least that's what they say. It's a horrible way to live, not even knowing what the person next door looks like."

Gary sucked in his cheek thoughtfully. "I wonder where they get food?"

Misty suddenly stopped dead in the road, and Gary went a few steps before noticing.

"Hey, what's the hold up?"

"Is this really right?" She asked, eyes hard on an ancient piece of trash on the street. "To keep going like nothing happened back there?"

It took the taller trainer a moment to discern that she was talking about the mystic in the tunnel. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair; again marvelling at the emotional spins Misty seemed to have grown prone to.

"Oh, the woman who attacked us." He faced her and considered putting a hand on her shoulder. "Well, I don't know if it's right, but, hey, you've been out in the world. Bad things like that happen all the time, you know that. We've got pretend they don't to go on."

Misty kept her eyes low. "It still doesn't seem right." She muttered childishly. Gary was about to say more when Eevee drew his attention with a tired yelp.

The streets were flooding with mist. It was too hot for mist; this was weird. Gary had his sword out, looking for the cause. Misty looked up when she noticed Gary's distraction, and saw the encircling fog. She looked over Gary's shoulder.

"Who's that?"

Gary turned, and saw down the street an old woman, face heavy with age and wearing white hair in an archaic style, sitting crookedly on an ornate wooden chair. She was wrapped with thick knits, glaring at them and fiddling with some occult-looking beads in her left hand. There was no way this immobile senior could have moved into the middle of the road in such a short time.

Misty stepped around Gary to get a better look and realised who it was instantly. She paled.

"Oh no…" she whispered, and gripped her hammer tightly, charging desperately. The fog, which had previously crept closer, suddenly roared forth like a great wind, swallowing up the disturbing woman and locking Gary, Misty and Eevee in a tight circle.

Misty skidded to a halt, unwilling to brave the thick cloud. She was barely two feet from it and couldn't see half an inch into it.

Gary broadened his stance, and Eevee jogged forward, willing to fight through his dizziness. They were ready for anything that the strange woman might spring on them. "What was that?"

Before Cerulean's Champion could answer, a silhouette appeared in the smog, definitely not the witch. Misty wondered if the figure was a townsperson who had braved the outside, when the figure leapt out at Gary. He was a large man with a deformed face – his cheek looked horrifically burned.

The Pallet trainer was so stunned to see this man that he almost failed to lash out with his sword before the man pummelled him. The slash was good, and the man stumbled to the side, a long gash in his chest.

Instead of crying out or shouting, the burnt man remained quiet, leaping back with supernatural grace and disappeared into the fog.

Oak watched him disappear in shock, Eevee beside him shaking his head, certain that the spores were making him see things. Misty was too tense to approach.

"Who was that?" She called out, knowing Gary had recognised him.

"A thug." Gary said automatically, disquieted. "I killed him, though." Indeed, it was the first person he'd ever had to kill, at the ripe young age of sixteen. Gary had thrown up afterward. "He tried to kidnap me…"

The conversation was cut short when another shadow burst from the fog, this time a slender man with a revolver. With acrobatic flair, he leapt forward to pistol whip Gary, only to be headbutted mid-air by Eevee. Again, the man didn't react to his chest full of broken ribs, and simply slipped back into the mists, to be replaced by two more figures.

A crowd of people and pokémon poured from the surrounding fog to wordlessly charge Gary and Eevee. They ignored Misty as they all took their turns to attack and receive their counter from the pair before disappearing again.

Ducking under a bo staff, Gary came up cutting, growling as he sent his attacker – a man he'd killed to save a boy's life – back trailing blood. "I killed you all!" He growled, dodging a punch from a thickset man who had once been a drug dealer in Goldenrod City and jabbing him with the butt of his rifle. "I'll do it again!"

Eevee displayed more fear, shaking a little as he bit down on a wildman who had tried to eat him once and tossing him into his approaching Stantler. He slipped deftly through all the blows despite his drowsy mental state, wondering if this was some sort of nightmare or spore-induced hallucination.

Watching from a far as a river of attackers poured out on the trainer and his pokémon, blowing back like the wash of the ocean, Misty was terrified to see how many there were. Was this unending crowd all people that Gary had killed? There were woman, old people and cripples in their midst's! What sort of slaughterer was this ally she'd made?

She swallowed and took a hesitant step forward. Could she even hope to control this man, who was even now killing his entire tally over again? She had to. It was this violence that had given him the power to do what no one else could… fight Ash Ketchum, her husband.

Steeling herself, she resolved to help Gary. Taking another step forward, she was surprised to have stepped into a puddle. She looked down to see that it wasn't water she'd stepped in, but a pool of… red liquid.

Twitching, Misty looked up to see she was now miles from Gary and his historic fight, separated by the sea, which spread to the horizon on ever side. It was a sea of blood. Covering her mouth, she fought not to retch.

Getting herself under control, she calmed herself as much as she could. This was obviously one of the witch's games – but how real was it? Was it an illusion? The weapons used on Gary seemed like they could kill well enough. Misty closed her eyes and clenched her teeth. How she hated magic.

"Gyrados, go!" She cried, unleashing the giant water dragon into the blood before her.

Gyrados, who was used to fighting and unsightly things, was only mildly surprised at his bloody reception. Careful not to look directly at the waves beneath her, Misty climbed on her pokémon's back and up onto her head, sitting on her hard scales high and away from the sea.

"We need to go over there, girl." Misty said, neck stiff and pointing over to Gary's duel with the past. With a slap near the great blue beast's ear, Gyrados set off.

-- --

Jasmine sniffed her nose imperiously as another body was lined up in front of her. After Mount Moon's eruption, a good amount of debris had been sprayed over Pewter City and its newly built Forges and Quarries. The casualties had been significant, which was slowing production a great deal.

In the process of rebuilding the destruction, it was necessary to remove the bodies of the dead and keep them together for hygiene reasons. Nothing rusted an iron reputation like disease. She was having some of her Iron Guard line up the bodies in long rows in a cleared field. There were a lot of them, and the smell was becoming untoward.

Becoming impatient, she crossed her arms and looked up at the tree behind her.

"I've been waiting for you to announce yourself. Do you think I frequent corpse pits?" She said. The leaves rustled and out emerge a short ninja.

Gracefully landing at Jasmine's side, she pulled free her mask, revealing herself to be Janine of Fuchsia. Despite being of equal rank, Janine felt contrite in Jasmine's tall and proud presence.

"Lorelei sent me here to check up on the damage."

"Lorelei is a good choice for investigator." Jasmine said. "Tell her that production is significantly down. I have no exact numbers at this stage."

Janine forgot her own standing and bowed. "I will report that to the Ice Queen."

The ninja was about to leave when a young Iron Guardsman stumbled in their direction, looking pale. He made it to a tree and fell against it, vomiting inelegantly.

Rolling her eyes at such an ugly display, Jasmine turned her back at returned to her Gym, the newly founded Palace of Steel. Janine lingered a moment and approached the youth.

"First time among the dead?" She guessed. He was too weak to do anything but nod, resting his forehead against the tree trunk. "That's rough."

The boy vomited again, managing to keep it off his crisp grey uniform. Janine looked on piteously. When he'd finished, she crouched down to look into his face.

"Have you ever killed anyone?" Fuchsia's Gym Leader asked directly. The Guardsman could only shake his head, fighting off tears. "That never goes away. I've murdered lots of people, and they stay with you, as if you've taken them into yourself. They hang around, like they're waiting for the chance to get you back for what you did."

Silence was all the boy offered, probably wondering why she was rambling like this. She wondered too, and drew her mask back on.

"It's a screwed up world, kid." Janine left him with, before darting back to reunite with her partners.

-- --

It seemed like hours, and still they kept coming. The list didn't even seem comprehensive – there were faces he had yet to see take a swipe at him – but Gary was starting to grow concerned over the number of people he'd killed. Had he really sacrificed all those lives just to beat one man?

A woman who had he had beaten in a duel kicked at him with a knife in the sole of her shoe. She was slow and he had time to cut her. She seemed non-plussed and dived away into the mist, but soon she was replaced with a short man with a chrome pistol. Gary didn't even recognise this one, but he could have been a simple gang member he'd killed along the way somewhere.

Eevee was drowsily leaping between foes, bouncing off their heads and chests. He had been a hair width from death a few times already – it was too hard to focus while under the affect of the spores. His greatest fear was becoming confused in the commotion and attacking either Gary or Misty.

A Pinsir horn speared out by his ear, and Eevee slipped down and rammed the armoured creature in the stomach, sending it flying back. As the small dog landed, he stumbled, almost allowing a pistol shot to catch him. Sweat drenched his furred brow – this was getting dangerous.

Gary, though, had all the time in the world to think while he disposed of more phantoms. It was clear that these weren't actually the people he'd killed – those with skill in life certainly weren't using it now. So, what was happening?

The obvious answer was some sort of Hypnosis attack, Gary considered as he absently blocked a kung-fu chop and kicked the opponent in the teeth. Or maybe some sort of ghost pokémon. At any rate he had one way to find out.

Gary reached into his pocket while an angry Team Rocket-connected chef attacked him with a fork of all things. He withdrew a small device of his own design used to detect psychic or otherworldly activity. It was beeping wildly already and he turned to Eevee, dodging a shotgun blast.

"Hey, use Shadow Balls." He said, and Eevee drew strength from the fact that his trainer seemed collected. Opening his maw, Eevee gathered strange energies into a shimmering purple ball and launched it at the Samurai bounding at him.

It struck the metal armour directly in the chest, launching him back and into the Victreebel. As they both flew into the mist, they displayed the first signs of pain any of the wraiths had given, screaming in an echoing, raspy voice that clearly wasn't either human or grass pokémon.

Satisfied that one of his theories seem right, Gary went to strike a button on his hand-held device. Falkner slashing at him with his wing-blade stopped him, and Gary swung his sword in retaliation. This Falkner visage displayed more skill than any of its deceased compatriots and leapt back with the same strength Falkner demonstrated. Twirling his knife, the dead wing master pressed forward again.

Before he could strike again, though, Gary hit the button, sending out a wave of imitation psychic energy. Nothing so pure as the real thing, but the bluish wave was enough to disrupt the magic power of the ghost pokémon surrounding them, revealing the phantoms to be all phosphorous Gastly, and where 'Falkner' was, a Haunter.

The Gastly chuckled nervously, both at being discovered and with ill ease at being in broad daylight, but decided that numbers made them strong, and they crowded to continue fighting.

"Hydro Pump!"

Gallons of water were bucketed down on the Gastly, washing scores of them away. Panicked, the rest started floating in random directions. Eevee leapt into action, launching great volleys of shadow balls, striking the Haunter before it could organise any sort of resistance.

The ghosts scattered, preferring to play mind games than fight open battles. The strange mist had vanished after the pseudo-psychic blast Gary's machine had created, and the old woman was nowhere to be seen. Eevee barked angrily after them.

Misty leapt down from the head of her Gyrados – who, in Gary's expert opinion, looked a magnificent creature – and approached Gary cautiously. He had just gone through a very intense psychological experience; she didn't want to invade his space.

"Are you alright?" She asked, trying to see his face.

Gary sheathed his sword. "It's nothing I don't face every day." He muttered, but smiled quickly. "I'm fine, thank you."

It was strange for Gary to be so straightforward, at least without a snide comment. She was about to probe further, and he was about to ask who the woman was, when Eevee's growl caught their ears.

The small pup was growling at someone down the street behind them.

"I see that you've finished warming up." Announced the man, dressed in an ankle-length cap, face hidden by a baseball cap, and a Pikachu sitting on his shoulder.

For a brief, beautiful moment, Gary thought it was Ash come to meet him. But he looked again and saw that the man had rich brown hair, and the Pikachu had a tuft of hair over his eyes. The man raised his head, and though he had some striking similarities to Ketchum, it was clearly someone else.

"Who are you?" Gary asked, but Misty answered, her face grim.

"It's Richie, from the Unassigned Corps." She furrowed her brow. "I don't know how they figured out what I'm doing..."

Richie shrugged, the Pikachu on his shoulder leaping down onto the ground.

"Figured out? It was all chance!" He grinned. "I was just accompanying a couple of the big wigs on some boring assignment, and suddenly I've found a traitor and a rebel!" He bent down to scratch his Pikachu under the chin. "Lucky us, right Sparky? I might even be assigned a good job in reward!"

Gary sighed and drew his sword again. What a day – he was going to be exhausted by the end of it. "Hey, seriously, you know I basically specialise against Pikachus, right? Make this interesting, what other pokémon have you caught?"

Eyebrows high, the trainer straightened and chuckled. "What pokémon have I caught?" He said, drawing open his cape. Inside it was lined with rows and rows of pokeballs, so many that the inside the fabric seemed scaled with them. Misty and Gary stepped back in shock. Richie twirled on the spot, sending all the balls flying and cracking open simultaneously. "Why, I've caught them all!"

-- --

A man in the brown cloak looked up at the sounds of battle. They had been drawn deeper into the town then they had initially intended by the appearance of a strange mist, and now the mist had suddenly disappeared. In its stead was the sudden kick up of battling somewhere on the far side of town.

"What do you make of that?" he put to his companions. The first one simply shrugged and took a drag from his cigarette, clutching his long rifle to his shoulder.

"It's obviously her." Said the second, a woman. "We should get there quickly and give her a hand."

The leader nodded sharply. "Right. Lets go." Pushing suddenly into a run. His female companion rushed after him, while the other man tapped his gun in frustration before clenching his cigarette tightly in his lips and following.

-- --

_This is bad_, thought Gary, throwing himself out the path of a thunderbolt, scrapping along the ground. He barely had time to jump to his feet and avoid a flamethrower attack. _Very very bad_.

It was times like these that Gary wished he had ammo for his rifle. An army of pokémon – actual pokémon, not ghosts – of such multifarious nature that there was no theme or shape to the mass of colour stampeding around them. Misty was off to the side with all her water pokémon out in a circle around her, handling herself as well as could be expected. Gary had every confidence in her, given her considerable reputation, but had sent Arcanine to watch over her and take care of any pokémon with a type-advantage over her water-based team.

His own pokémon were scattered around, cutting swathes into the huge army. The only two advantages he had were that this Richie seemed barely train his pokémon – only enough for those he needed to evolve to do so – and that there were so many that they couldn't co-ordinate, even with their trainer standing back issuing instructions.

Lavender had suffered for it. Many buildings had been smashed to the ground, especially by the big gun pokémon and the heavy-hitting attacks. He hadn't had opportunity to keep careful track, but he thought he saw humans scramble from the wreckage – probably more trapped in it – once again in the unwalled real world after who knows how long.

A Lickitung lashed out with its road-like tongue, but Gary's sword met it part way, cutting deep into the powerful muscle. Gary didn't even have a chance to see what damage he had done when a Butterfree launched a psybeam at him. The beam of crystalline colours streaked over Gary's shoulder as he dodged, detonating the area behind him and hopefully taking some of its colleagues out.

Oak jumped the hovering butterfly, driving his weapon between the black segments of its body. It squealed a pathetic death cry.

"Happy, no!" cried Richie over the indistinct din, apparently watching. Somehow this whole situation was worse for the fact that the prodigious catcher gave each of his pokémon a terrible nickname.

A sudden hyperbeam burst from somewhere on Gary's right, possibly from Eevee. Gary rolled out of the way as the blast cut through a Miltank and a Milotic before slamming hard into a Venusaur that had been trying to push enough room for itself to wield its vines properly. The giant leafed turtle resisted, being driven back through the dirt, but the beam's power simply spilled over it, burning away the squat monster. Definitely Eevee's.

Said dog burst agilely threw the crowd and leapt viciously into a Snorlax' face, sending the colossal beast of fat tumbling over and scattering if not crushing its fellows.

Gary had no time to utter 'thanks', as a Hitmontop spun in from his blind spot and delivered a shattering kick to his gut. Literally flying, Gary struck the ground at the feet of an enraged Ursaking. The bear picked up Gary by his rifle, lifting him to face height, poising its free claw to disembowel Gary and eat him.

Desperately struggling against a messy end, the Pallet Trainer kicked up into Ursaking's jaw, stunning the beast a moment for him to cut the tendons in its claw. As he fell, he drew his blade down its furred front, chest to groin, showing him in blood.

As he touched ground, Gary threw himself without thinking through Ursaking's short legs, letting the bear collapse forward on the Hitmontop, who had twisted forward in pursuit.

No time for breath, he had to keep moving. A Kingler snapped at him with its oversized red claw. Hopping back from its attempts to clamp him in its steel-bending grip, Gary collided with the side of a Ponyta. The small flaming horse reared up, and, thinking fast, Gary latched onto the crab following him.

Grunting powerfully, Gary dragged the Kingler forward, almost on top of him, the foam from its maw mingling with the blood covering him. Before the crab pokémon could crush him with its smaller claw, the Ponyta pounded down with its fore-hooves – right on Kingler's back.

There was a crack as Kingler's carapace fractured, and while the crab hammered indignantly on the Ponyta, Gary stumbled back and away. He made barely two steps before a swift strike to his kidneys sent him to his knees.

Behind him was a mean-looking Primeape, testing its ferocious punches in the air. Spinning around with his sword, the hairball-ape jabbed it from his tired grip and pulled back to a defensive stance.

Failing to follow-up was its mistake, and Gary bounded forward with a hard fist, catching the Primeape in the eye. Grapping its furry, round body, the auburn-haired human rammed two swift knee strikes into what he assumed was its ribs. Tarrying no longer, he let the poorly trained boxer fall while cartwheeling around both a fireblast and a steel wing attack.

He grabbed up his lost weapon and faced off against the Ponyta and the Kingler, seeing that a Skarmory had joined them, fluttering down with its metallic wings. Kinglers large, open red claw started spewing forth a stream of bubbles, each of which Gary knew was packed with explosive force.

"BLAST!"

Gary heard a familiar voice, and glanced to the side to see his Blastoise lift both a Nidorina and Nidorino over his head and throw them high in the sky – unknowingly right toward Gary and his foes.

The two stony rat pokémon cried out as their struck the grounded with earth-shattering force, sending up a thick cloud of dust. Gary was knocked aside, and coughed up the dirt. He feebly tried to wipe the cloud out of the air, trying to see or hear if the accidental assist had taken out his three opponents.

What he saw instead were two newcomers – a towering Rhydon and Tyranitar. The two stone ogres smirked down at him, wanting Gary to savour the pain they were about inflict. Crying out with a voice carrying more authority than he actually had, Richie threw in his useless instructions.

"Yeah, Stampy and Cruise! Crush him! Avenge Happy!"

Gary was screwed – he knew it. Exhausted, blood and sweat in his eyes, there was no way he was going to kill two stone-skinned titans with just a sword. Even knowing their weak spots – like the eyes – wasn't going to help him out this time… Damn that fortune-teller…

Suddenly, a gunshot slit the din. To the battered trainer's surprise, it struck the side of the Rhydon's head with a sudden frosty growth and passed right through with a trail of icycles. Equally shocked that a bullet could harm it, the Rhydon's face was frozen as it collapsed to the ground, very dead.

The Tyranitar searched for where the shot that had killed his partner had come from, only to cop another of the same in the eye. It hit the earth too, shaking it under the stunned Gary.

Wondering why none of Richie's other goons had finished him off yet, Gary was flinched at a sudden burst of activity around him. A horrendously big Onix burst from the ground, each of the boulder segments in its snake-like body more than twice as large as the Quilava it slammed mercilessly into.

Two brown stumps slammed the earth near Gary's head, and he looked up to see a powerful Golem. The pokémon drew its snake-like head back into his it stony body and rolled out like a wrecking ball, smashing aside a fleeing Seel into an oncoming Donphan, which was attempting the same move. There was no contest as the elephant-like Donphan was bowled into the air.

A black Sneasel led a charge of new pokémon directly into Richie's legion. The influx of fresh, well-trained troops quickly broke the League army's moral, sending the greater body of the troops into flight.

Things weren't quite done yet, and Gary dragged himself to his feet, knowing he'd regret it later. Coughing heavily, he steadied himself, and then turned when someone shouted at him.

"Hey!" A tall man in a brown cloak called, running towards him. He had narrow eyes and olive skin, with dark hair spiked up at hard angles. A hard-looking woman with her black hair in a conservative cut flanked him. The man skidded beside him with arms wide. "That was amazing!"

Talking was for later, and, spying a pistol in his rescuer's pants, he held out his hand. "Gun." He demanded. The man handed it over without hesitation. That probably wasn't too smart, but all Gary cared about right now was aiming at Richie.

Steadying his shaking hands, the tall lean trainer pointed at the Ash look-alike, whose Pikachu was still uselessly at his feet. Richie was trying to drive his pokémon back to battle, but Ash Ketchum he definitely was not. The capped man looked away from his running troops and saw Gary pointing a pistol at him, far outside its effective range. It still scared him.

Gary fire two shots, amazingly striking Richie in the chest with both. The Pikachu, Sparky, turned to see his master fall with a shocked expression, then turned back in rage. Electricity built up in his body, sending sparks erupting off his fur, and it sprang forward at Gary, trying to cover the distance quickly.

He made barely three gallops before being knocked into the air by a barrage of stars. Before even hitting the ground, Eevee careened into Sparky's ribs. They shredded the earth, and Eevee was up first, snatching Sparky up in his jaws and tossing him. Roaring forth a powerful Shadow Ball, Eevee sent Sparky tumbling, before finishing him with an ice kick. The smell of frost was a welcome alternative to the carnage-stench of the battlefield, and Eevee had a moment to appreciate it before fainting dead away.

As soon as he saw Sparky go down and stay there, Gary let the pistol drop from his fingers and puked. The brown-cloaked man patted his back while the woman coughed and looked away. After ejecting the contents of his stomach, he muttered to himself, forgetting his company.

"More on the list…"

Then he too collapsed into glorious unconciousness.

-- --

Pikachu yawned broadly, cuddling into the Champion's arm. They had been in the conference room practically by themselves all day, making for a very boring way to pass the time. But, as always, there was business that needed to be dealt with.

"…I'm wondering how the Lieutenant will handle finding out he has to meet the power requirements of Saffron _on top_ of his regular output." Warned Will, pushing his glasses back up his nose, a steady look on the League Champion. "He's already got his hands full –You've seen what it's like outside Vermillion as it is already."

Ash waved his hand. "May's got Surge covered." He suddenly felt he said something wrong and made a disgusted look. "Hopefully not _too_ covered."

Will's mouth tightened. "Indeed." He flicked his scarf back over his shoulder and changed subject. "Are you going to tell everyone about Falkner?"

"I'm going to have to. You can't hide a Gym-Leader dying." Ash tugged his cap (which he insisted on wearing indoors) in thought and scratched Pikachu absently with his other hand. "We'll tell them it was the Rebellion. I'm still kinda wondering why Lorelei didn't mention this earlier."

"It's hard to tell with her, boss."

Sighing, Ash set his chin in his hands. "It's a shame; I really liked him."

Pikachu, who seemed to still be paying some attention rather than simply basking in pleasure, gave a low "Cha…" of agreement.

They remained quiet for a long moment, wondering if there were any final issues to bring up. Both trainers were fatigued, but it was awkward to go on so long and simply finish up. The Saffron Gym-Leader shuffled uncomfortably.

"Are you going to call them out?" He asked suddenly, pointing up at the rafters, which gasped melodramatically. "Or will I?"

The League Champion blinked blandly as two people and a pokémon tumbled from the ceiling. Pikachu yawned again, but stood to his paws. "Oh, I didn't realise. I've become a bit too used to these guy's presence."

Zooming to their feet, the three trespassers revealed themselves. The first was a tall, beautiful woman with a fierce demeanour, her red hair swept back in a long, snake-like fashion. The second was an effeminate man with limp blue hair, clinging a rose close in a meaningless high romantic style. They were both posing garishly and dressed in co-ordinated white uniforms, bright red 'R's stamped on their chests. Between their feet a Persian sat, casually cleaning himself.

Will yawned and Ash scratched his nose.

"Hey, what's with the laidback reaction!" Cried the woman, Jesse. "Quake in fear!"

"Yeah!" Seconded the man, James, waving his hand with a limp wrist. "Fear Team Rocket's quake-tastic fearsomeness!"

Will, who was unused to dealing with these particular Team Rocket goons, made a serious error. "Well, here's trouble…"

The trio's ears quivered, and if they were even wont to try, they could not resist launching into their over-dramatic motto. Ash groaned loudly. Laughing tartily, Jesse stood in a wide stance, pointing impressively into the sky.

"Prepare for trouble!"

James pirouetted on the spot, sending a rain of rose petals across the conference room table and floor, not doing the janitor's any favours.

"And make it double!"

"To protect the world from-"

"Pikachu," interrupted Ash, his head hidden in his arms. "If they say another word of that damned motto, kill them both."

"Pi ka!" responded the yellow rat. Knowing better than most the true power of the particular pokémon in front of them, they slipped back unconsciously, nervous looks breaking their features.

"Heh heh," forced out Jesse, raising a gloved hand peacefully. "No motto! Gotcha!"

"Rojer Dojer!" squealed James, desperately keeping the crotch of his pants white and not yellow.

The Persian opened his mouth and spoke in thickly accented Human. "Ah, it was getting old anyway…" he lied. Will stared in amazement. He had never figured out how that pokémon could have learnt to talk properly.

Now firmly in control of the situation, Ash tried to focus Team Rocket's easily distracted antics. "What do you want? I'm tired."

Despite having been pulled from active pokémon-stealing duty years ago, the three of them still had to bite down the instinct to take advantage of the 'twerp's' exhaustion and steal his Pikachu. Keeping themselves in line, James whipped out his hand in far too expressive a manner.

"Why, we come bringing gifts!"

"Presents, tributes, offerings!" Elaborated Jesse, lifting a hand up towards the ceiling from which they fell.

Will knew better than to involve himself with these crazies and their bizarre eccentricities. He kept silent and leant against the heavy table, watching with detached interest. The Champion looked ostensibly bored, but his eyes were intrigued.

"Go on." He said.

Pushing a button on a remote control, Jesse let a great gift-wrapped box fall from above. It slammed into the table, causing Pikachu to jump back in shock. Will marvelled that they could have sent up something like that here, at the heart of security deep inside a League stronghold.

"Dey're fallin' from heaven!" Exclaimed the Persian. Jesse squirmed in delight.

"If only men did the same!"

"Well?" Said James, slipping closer to the Champion, rubbing his hands together eagerly. "Aren't you going to open it?"

Ash stared at the brightly coloured box as Pikachu poked it experimentally. It didn't explode. Yet.

He switched his eyes over to the awfully camp team. "Why do you still do this sort of thing after so long?"

Jesse suddenly exploded, pointing an accusing finger at the dark-haired trainer. Will didn't flinch, knowing that if they really attempted to harm the Champion, he could stop them with his mind. Not that the Champion needed defending. "Are you insulting art?"

"Our carefully considered contributory creation?" Added James, tearing up.

"Youse got no taste!"

"No appreciation for talent!"

"I promised myself I wouldn't cry!"

Pikachu nibbled at the wrapping paper, and Ash dropped back into his chair, flicking up his hands uncaringly. "Forget the drama, just tell me what it is."

Seething, Jesse punched through the box and reached inside. Grudgingly, she pulled out an envelope and shoved it in Ash's face. He took it slowly.

"And what'll this cost me?"

Persian waved a paw dismissively. "Da Boss said dis one's on da house."

Nodding wildly, James decided to explain further with his favourite literary tool, alliteration. "You don't pay a pretty penny for this particular present!"

Wondering what Team Rocket could possibly be playing at, Ash started to open the letter. "Fine, you can leave." He said gruffly.

"With pleasure!" They said together, zipping out the door and leaving their junk everywhere. How they planned to leave the fortified Gym was a mystery to all.

Glancing over to where the Great Kanto Trainer read over the letter, Will noticed that he suddenly froze up. This piqued Pikachu's curiosity too, and the pokémon tried to get a look in.

"Pika?"

"What's it say?" Will asked.

Ash folded the letter and spoke stiffly. "Will, thank you for everything today. You are dismissed."

He didn't need to be a psychic to see that the Champion was holding back something, and fearing it might be anger, Will decided to hightail it out of there. With a faint farewell, Will teleported away, leaving Ash and his Pikachu.

A moment passed, in which Pikachu pondered the letter's contents, before his trainer suddenly cried out.

"Koga!"

There was a sudden movement, too quick for anyone to track from whence it came, but where the room had been empty, a man in ninja garb knelt before the Champion. He was tall, with ocean-blue hair kept crudely short such that it looked as lethal as his array of secret weapons, and red short cape wrapped around his neck.

The Champion extended his arm and gave over the letter. Koga took it without looking up.

"This man," ordered Ash, a strange gleam in his eye. "Find him, track him, don't kill him."

With a single nod, Koga said; "Yes sir." And disappeared as suddenly as he appeared.

Now alone, Pikachu turned to Ash.

"Pika-pi?"

Ash allowed a smile to break open his face. His huge, glorious grin shone down on his pokémon, who twitched his tail, keen to hear what had his master so pleased. Ash snatched up Pikachu and held him in the air, spinning around in his chair.

"He's back, Pikachu!" Ash cried, laughing so hard it hurt. "He's finally back!"

.

.

**Author's notes:**

I feel that each of these fights was worthy of a chapter of its own, but I want to cram them in there to get things moving along. And kill Richie quicker. That jerk.

And I finally introduced Team Rocket! Huzzah!

You may have noted I tend to focus on the earlier seasons, with only dashes of the later stuff, primarily because that's what I know. This especially shines through my choices in which pokémon show up. My understanding of May's character comes from some selective episode watching, and Pokémopolis (which I know is a joke)

Please Read and Review! Must I beg you?

But what's this? My first review! Joy of joys!


	5. The City Lights Don't Shine So Bright 1

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Pokémon. If I did, I'd be rich. But I don't, and I'm not, so please don't sue me Nintendo.

-

**Grasping the Moon**

Chapter 5 – The City Lights Don't Shine So Bright

Part 1

Gary was splashed back into consciousness by a light stream of water. Shaking the cool fluid from his face, he opened his eyes and saw Misty hovering worriedly above him with her Azumarill.

_How did she get through all that with only a bruise to the cheek?_ was his first thought, seeing the red patch on the ridge of her cheekbone.

"Ah, you're awake." She said, patting her blue water-rat to make it stop spraying. With a flip of her orange hair, she moved back to let Gary push himself upright. He winced, body a big throbbing ball of aches and pains. Looking around, he saw they were outside Lavender, in a spread of dry shrubs.

Pressing a hand to his sore head, he asked what was going on. The tall dark man from before stepped forward, cradling the snoozing Eevee.

"We were about to clean you off before moving out – you'd look suspicious like that." He said in an effable tone. Gary looked down and saw his clothes soaked with blood.

"Ah."

The woman accompanying this tall man appeared at his side, and Gary got a better look at them. The man was very broad and strong but carried himself as though he were shy of the fact. A practical military vest was hidden under his brown cloak, well stocked with a variety of goods, suggesting a man who came prepared for everything. His gentle cradling of Eevee was demonstration of a man who knew how to care for pokémon.

Next to him, the hard-looking woman appeared very short, though she was of decent height. Their similar complexions suggested they were from the same area, or even related. She wore clothing that appeared casual, but Gary quickly perceived that it was carefully chosen for maximum manoeuvrability and durability, while appearing as civilian civies.

The narrow-eyed man looked down at the dog in his arms.

"So, you're really Gary Oak? I should have guessed – you dressed the same as back then!"

Peering at him, Gary tried to recall if he knew him. Noticing his difficulty, Misty introduced him, rising to her feet.

"You remember Brock, don't you?"

It fell into place. "Hey, yeah! You used to hang out with Ash, right?"

As soon as the name left his lips, Gary realised it might have been a bit of a _faux pas_, but Brock's reaction was more extreme than he had prepared for. In a split second, Eevee was hanging from the woman's unprepared hands and Brock was curled up on the ground several feet away. "Don't mention that name!" He whined.

While Gary marvelled and Misty rolled her eyes, the woman, who was clearly not used to pokémon as soft as Eevee, returned him to his master.

"My name's Melissa." She said politely. "We never met, but we both competed in the same tournaments a few times."

Gary couldn't say he remembered Melissa, but he shook her hand from the ground while settling Eevee on his lap. Brock seemed to have recovered, and was back to his perky self.

"I'm amazed!" He said. "Imagine, Gary Oak back in Kanto! What could have brought you back to our little hell-hole?" The man in question was about to answer, but Brock waved him down. "Wait, wait! That's a dumb question – of course I know!"

Pushing himself to his feet, gritting at the pain, Gary noted that Brock was a very strange character. "Yeah, well, if we're all introduced, maybe I should wash these clothes and get moving before League losers flood the place."

Taking that as a cue, Misty turned to her merrily bouncing Azumarill. "Good plan! Azumarill, Water Gun!"

All three of the bastards smiled deviously as Gary was knocked to the ground by the small pokémon's spray, Misty giggling away the memory of the day's previous events. Azumarill waved its bulbous tail in simple joy as it kept on until every trace of red was blown roughly from Gary and his clothes.

Azumarill grinned and bounded obliviously as it finished hosing Gary down, allowing him climb to his knees and causing Eevee to stir.

"Good and clean." Misty said through a smirk, and Gary could only respond by spitting out a mouth full of rat-water and dripping. How could she be so childishly chipper after that massacre?

Brock laughed out loud. "You really dirtied up! That was some display earlier – I thought you had become a pokémon researcher?"

Squeezing the water from his hair, Gary shrugged. "Researcher, battler – whatever."

Leaves rustled, and the smiles fell from faces as the last of the small crew entered the scene. He was a dangerously muscled man wearing a striped muscle shirt. A cigarette dipped lazily from his mouth and his curled hair parted richly down either side of his face. Gary's eyes were instantly drawn to the long, powerful scoped rifle held in his right arm.

"Yep, Lavender's a no-go." He said, taking a drag. "The ghost pokémon were attracted by the smell of the dead."

Misty had a chilled tone. "And who are you again?"

Strangely nervous, Brock presented the latecomer with a hand. "Ah, Misty, you remember Snap right?"

Gary had no idea who he was, but Misty seemed to. She flinched in surprise.

"Snap? But I thought you were a photographer!"

Sneering, 'Snap' shrugged rudely. "Photographer, sniper – whatever."

Brock broke in, smiling tenuously. "We've contracted Snap to help us out against the League."

Misty leaned down and spoke into Gary's ear. "In case you haven't guessed, these are my Resistance contacts."

"Yeah, thanks." Gary responded sarcastically.

"So, unless we all want to end up soul-snacks for Haunters," announced Melissa, her change in demeanour announcing her dislike of Snap. "I suggest we get moving now. Oak can dry on the way."

Muttering unfelt thanks, Gary summoned his Arcanine to follow with him, its burning hide helping the water evaporate. He set Eevee, who was still groggy and half-asleep on the larger dog's back – Arcanine's flames only harm those it doesn't trust.

As the team set off, something emerged from the shadows under the bushes. It was a large, sleek black hound, bony protrusions armouring its forehead. The black dog watched the Resistance leave, huffing hungrily, and then slipped back into the shadows and disappeared.

-- --

They made camp as soon as they were comfortably far from the bloodbath at Lavender and the Sun fell from the sky. The local forests were a good change from the northern ones – they were dry and full of brush. Their paths were harder to tread, but their sharp, far-reaching trees had a strange brown beauty to them.

Judging by the position of the stars and full-moon (and a glance at his compass), Gary figured that he and his newfound companions were heading West from Lavender, which meant they were heading directly for Saffron City, the metropolis of Kanto.

Except, with Kanto a war-torn skeleton, so who knew what had happened to the City of Wonder?

"Are we heading to Saffron?" Gary asked straight, dropping some firewood in a pile by their already blazing campfire a la Arcanine. Brock, who was preparing a surprisingly gourmet meal for a guerrilla, looked up.

"We're only passing through." He explained. "Saffron City's a little dangerous for freedom fighters. We're going to Celadon."

Gary looked perplexed. "Why not take the underground route? Bypass all the nasty, hey?"

Brock laughed and ran a hand through his hair. "Well, tunnels aren't really the safest places anymore." Gary and Misty exchanged a look. How they knew. "Anyway, I think it collapsed. Who knows?"

"It was closed down." Interrupted Misty, who had finished laying out her sleeping bag and was organising food for her pokémon. Unfortunately, her sisters had given them diet food as well. "They said that the Resistance was getting better use of those tunnels than they were."

Brock shrugged with a 'well, there you go' look. Gary drew closer and smelled the pot. It was meaty, with a heavy cream sauce.

"Hey, this is awful luxurious for a rebel, isn't it?"

Brock rubbed his chin wisely. "But for a rebel," he began, then paused dramatically. "... Every meal could be our last."

This sounded less profound in the air than in Brock's head, and Melissa, who was getting her Golem to play punching bag for her Sneasel, groaned. Snap – curled up in a blanket by the fire, appearing to be having a nap – laughed derisively.

"Only if you suck!" He said.

Brock was unphased, though Melissa and Misty shot the mercenary a look. "Well, we'll see if you think I still suck after tasting this. Dinner is served!"

They all gathered around and had their share. No one could deny – though in Snap's case, nor would he affirm – that it tasted amazing. Gary and Misty kept to themselves their feeling of awkwardness at eating something so fine from cheap plates off their knees. Brock had also prepared food (his secret recipe) for everyone's pokémon – to Gary's annoyance, as Eevee enjoyed Brock's more than his own, a fact that the dog said right to his face.

Everyone marvelled at Gary's storage pokéball as he unpacked his stuff, and gradually conversation across the fire turned to the day's earlier events. Gary wondered aloud who the old woman who had brought the fog was.

"Agatha." Misty said, staring in her food. Everyone dropped his or her cutlery.

"Agatha!" Cried Gary, remembering with a shudder the time, so many years ago, he battled the twisted old hag in the Indigo League. She had aged badly since then. "As in, Elite Four Agatha?"

"She's not one of the Elite Four anymore." Misty explained while Brock and Melissa exchanged concerned glances. "Too old. But she still lives on the Plateau and causes trouble."

Gary shot to his feet, Eevee joining him. "What are we doing floundering around here then? Aren't we going to take her out before she tells the rest of the League?" Brock looked ready to stand up with him, but Misty pacified the Pallet Trainer.

"She won't tell anyone – she doesn't really talk with people." Misty put a comforting hand on Gary's arm and pulled him back to his seat. "But she will probably come back to haunt us."

Snap rolled his eyes at Misty's words and lit another cigarette in the fire. Eevee noticed and shook his head disapprovingly. The rough man saw and raised his eyebrows. "What's this? You my conscience?"

"Ee, ee ee eeevee." The little dog lectured, sticking up his chin pretentiously.

Snap didn't know what he said, but got the jist, and waved Eevee away apathetically. Melissa stood up and looked down at him.

"The smoke could give us away, you know." She said. Snap scoffed.

"As if the fire already wouldn't have."

She sniffed, spun on her heel, and headed for the bush. Snap saw this odd behaviour and called after her.

"Where are you going?"

Melissa glanced back over her shoulder. "The little girl's room, moron."

Laughing at her surliness loudly, Snap closed his eyes and rolled back up in his blanket. Gritting her teeth, Melissa went about her business.

While they waited for her return, Gary and Brock got into a conversation about how to care for their pokémon, to which Misty listened in. They got heated at points, as they had very different philosophies on the matter, but they could both agree on the excellent conditioning of Gary's pokémon. Brock couldn't stop going on about the sheen of Eevee's coat, causing the little furball to puff up proudly.

Misty was about to cut in and compliment Gary on his Blastoise when a cry burst out of the dark. They all turned, seeing Melissa sprinting back into the clearing clutching her pants up, swearing with every step. A buzzing was swelling up from behind her.

"Damn Beedrills!" She screamed, as the first of the giant bee pokémon emerged from among the trees. She spun to a stop by her Golem and Sneasel, who had resumed their training after dinner. "Golem, Sneasel, beat their arses!"

The two pokémon leapt without hesitation into the heart of the swarm, Eevee racing to join them, while Gary, Brock and Misty grabbed burning branches from the fire to swing at the Beedrill who had spilled around.

Beedrill attacks were useless against the rock hide of Golem, but they proved deft at flying out of its reach. Throwing its earthen fists wildly a few times, Golem decided to change tact, and grabbed one by its abdominal stinger, spinning the insect around like a club. Several bugs were sent into the hard brown ground.

Sneasel was faring better, whirling through the Beedrill, long sharp claws raking left and right. It bounded off their chitinous shells, flipping between the hovering bugs with acrobatic ease. Their attempts to skewer it with their lance-like arms only punctured air as the pokémon struck Beedrill after Beedrill from the sky.

Gary, Misty and Brock had formed a tight circle, Melissa in the middle. They waved their torches at any of the stalking Beedrill who swept at them with their great arsenal of stingers. It was working for now, warding away the swarm.

"Not another life-and-death struggle!" Moaned Gary, counting this as the fourth today. Misty hissed angrily.

"Damn bugs!" She screamed, stabbing out at one who had inched too close. Spittle flew as she growled. "Diediediedie!"

The other three stepped away from Misty's fear-induced rage with tight looks, suddenly more frightened of her than the giant insect creatures.

"We need a plan!" Yelled Brock over the deafening buzz, trying to figure out how to break free.

Gary shrugged and reached for his pokeballs. "Just get our pokémon out and kill them."

Eevee beat him to the punch though, springing up several branches until he was high in a tree overlooking the buzzing mass. He tossed a pile of energy stars into the swarm, drawing their attention. As soon as he was sure they were all looking, he curled down his head.

When Eevee reared back up, Misty's heart skipped a beat. Instead of the cute, round countenance she had grown used to, what she saw was some sort of nightmare, woven out of harsh lines, impossible shadows and an air of supernatural horror. It was as though the cuddly little pup had become some monstrous dog of hell.

The Beedrill seemed to think so too, fleeing the campsite with all haste. In the matter of a moment, the area was clear of bugs and spookily silent. Eevee's face had returned to normal, and he proudly returned to the ground and strutted up to Gary. His master gave him a scratch.

"Ah…" said Melissa, finally rationalising it. "He used Scary Face."

Brock looked around at his camping gear littered around the fire. "What a mess…" He moaned, looking pitiful. Suddenly, Snap laughed.

"Well, if anything gave away our camp, that did it!" He said, still wrapped in his blanket and laying where he'd been before. How he had gone unharmed was a mystery.

"What the hell were you doing?" demanded Melissa, recalling Golem and Sneasel. The mercenary shrugged.

"No one paid me to shoot anything."

"You could have billed us." Brock muttered bitterly, picking up his cooking gear. Gary and Misty exchanged a confused look.

"Wait, hang on." Said Gary. "I thought you were already being paid?"

Snap sat up a little. "I only do individual contracts." He explained, a rough grin on his face. Raising a finger, he recited his motto. "If I don't kill him in one shot, you get a discount!"

Gary shook his head in wonder. "Ha, you're like the perfect mercenary."

Misty was still uncomfortable with what her old friend had become, and decided to move past this point of conversation. "So, are we going to move camp?"

"No way!" Gary protested, rubbing his eyes. "We need to rest. I've been killing all day." Eevee concurred, collapsing in the dirt.

Brock stood up and agreed. "The League is probably busy with death-drunk ghosts in Lavender, if they're following us at all. Let's just post watch and get some sleep."

"I'll go first." Volunteered Snap, surprising everyone with his generosity. "I hate waking up and then having to go back to bed after a few hours."

Melissa sighed and drew out her sleeping bag. "Fine, whatever. Goodnight everyone."

"Ha." Laughed Gary. "I'd say 'don't let the bed bugs bite', but they've already tried."

Misty threw a rock at him.

-- --

There was something deeply satisfying about surprising a ninja, Will reflected as he teleported right behind Janine. The short woman jumped high and fixed the bespectacled man with a wide look. She was clearly unused to this sort of shock.

"Good evening." Will said with a smirk, his hand holstered in his pockets. The night air was cool around the Gym Leader tents. Janine quickly slowed her breathing and allowed her heart rate to return to normal.

"What are you doing here?" She asked forcefully, angry at being shown up like that. Will lifted his shoulders in a lazy shrug.

"Got a message from the Boss." He returned, and looked down on the ninja with curiosity. "What are _you_ doing up so late?"

Janine crossed her arms over her chest. "Running errands, following leads."

"Now now," Will said with a sly grin, leaning down and tapping her nose cutely. "A girl needs her beauty sleep, especially one as pretty as you."

Under normal circumstances, Janine would have stabbed anyone for being so coy with her, but she had not been brought up to deal with flattery, and Will's forwardness made her grow shy. She fought to hide her blush as she stepped back.

Will saw, and with help from his mental powers saw with some surprise that Janine legitimately found him attractive. It was sadly uncommon that he didn't need to manipulate the female mind to such an end, so he decided to capitalise on the situation.

Following her and standing close, Will smirked even more greasily down at her. She dug her chin into her chest and curled up, trapped. She had lived a cloistered life of training and killing – boys were new to her, and Will's proximity was making her head spin. Leaning in, Will went to…

"What is happening here?"

They both turned to see Lorelei standing there watching them, dressed perfectly in her usual attire. Will remembered his business and stood up.

"Why have you bothered us during our sleep?" She challenged Will, who was suspicious as to how she could look so crisp after being woken up so late. Blaine stumbled out of his large tent, dressed in a long nightshirt and moustache a mess. He had managed to fumble on his sunglasses as he exited.

"Here's the news:" Began Will, Janine forgotten. "The Boss has ordered a meeting for all the top brass the day after tomorrow. Attendance is compulsory."

Lorelei looked annoyed, which amounted to a furrowed brow and some tension in her facial muscles. She tapped her shoulder thoughtfully.

"This will interrupt the investigation." She stated. Will could care less.

"Tell it to the chief, my dear."

His relaxed attitude caused Lorelei further consternation.

"Uh, Question: Why aren't you governing your city?" Cut in Blaine.

Will rolled his eyes and sighed. "And why would I want to tarry around that smog-ball?"

"You could make the Elite Four if you would just be more wary of your responsibilities." Said Lorelei, offering her commentary while regarding Will deeply.

"I'm happy with what I've got now." Will had no desire to discuss his career prospects, particularly not with the infamous 'Frozen Maiden', and decided his business here was concluded. "Ciao." He shot a wink down at Janine, turning the ninja red, before teleporting away in a flash of white.

-- --

The next day saw the Resistance team and their tag-along, Gary, arrive at Saffron City. Said tag-along was surprised to see its towering high-rises still standing, firm like a multitude of dark pillars holding up a sick-colour canopy of fog. As they approached Saffron's outlying suburbia and left the hard bush behind, Gary could taste the ever-strengthening pollution in the air.

Along the way they had to pass through various military checkpoints. These were manned by large men in strange uniforms – brown spandex with some sort of ceramic armour, and heavy helmets with impenetrable black visors.

They regarded Brock and Misty suspiciously, as they were both wearing cloaks with their hoods deeply drawn, but the paper work checked out and they were allowed through. The two ex-Gym Leaders explained that they're faces were so famous that it was less suspicious with the hoods.

Gary had dropped his weapons into his modified pokéball, but Snap had refused to do more than drape a large rag over his rifle. To Gary's surprise, it worked.

"Bastard…" he grumbled under his breath, slipping him a handful of coins he had bet. Snap looked cocky, which was meant to be Gary's thing.

"Bet you we get sprung anyway." The 'photographer' offered, feeling like he was on a winning streak. Pallet's second-favourite son was unable to resist a challenge.

"It's on." He said, showing his money to prove it.

The suburbs were an endless pattern of identical houses in dead gardens with stone driveways. All the square roads were useless now that most people couldn't afford a car, if they even had the contacts to get one and its fuel. There was a remarkable wealth of homeless people living at street corners, hardly bothering to beg. Misty had her eye on them.

"I hate this city." Melissa muttered under her breath, and Misty nodded silently, watching a passer-by spit on a hobo. The hobo just took it resignedly.

Crossing a bridge into the city proper caused Gary to start agreeing with her.

Stepping off the raised concrete was like stepping through a curtain – Suddenly the streets were crowded shoulder-to-shoulder with filth, street-vendors and citizens who never looked up at the people they jostled.

The fumes and stenches in the air were like a poison, causing the pure-lunged visitors to cough violently. Almost invisible through the crowd, Koffing floated by in their retarded joy while Grimers were trodden underfoot like trash. At every street corner seemed to be a Drowzee, swinging its pendulum hypnotically.

Ears were jostled just as much by the force of sound – a million feet clapping bitumen, doors slamming, and papers blown in the wind tunnels. But never human voices.

"Let's go." Brock muttered, forcefully pushing his way into the streams of people – an easy task for a large man like him among a population of desk-workers. Eevee shot up onto Gary's shoulder to avoid being trampled.

The others followed. Misty almost got carried away, but she was savage when she wanted to be and shoved back into step. Gary found it creepy that, even though she actually struck someone to the ground at one point, no one raised even a word of complaint.

Glancing around, Gary took in what had become of Saffron's once bright, clean streets. Every wall was caked in colourless mud and grime, whether a condemned business or functional store. The only points of brightness were dirty posters pinned up at constant intervals – propaganda pieces featuring Misty, Ash and Pikachu throwing up their fists in Soviet style. Others had Brock's face with targets levelled over his unopening eyes. Gary was starting to see why they covered up.

Nested comfortably with the constant advertising for foreign brands were League slogans – 'Together we triumph!', 'No challenge is too great!', 'The true enemy is within!' and, disturbingly, 'Kill the dissenter!'

Dropping his eyes from the imperial decrees, Gary saw the graffiti on the foundations of the city's great skyscrapers. It was scarce, and even now Gary could see some of the brown-uniformed men scrubbing some off. Most of the anonymous statements were cries of rage against the League, others were recruitment attempts by the Resistance, but some caught Gary's eye.

'Night and day; what's the difference now?'

'The smog has swallowed up the sun.'

Looking up, Gary could see the thick cloud of pollution blocked out any sign from the sky – it was impossible to tell the time of day at all. Who knew if it were even night?

Eevee gave a warning squeak by his ear, and Gary looked down to see one of the brown-clad men looking directly at him from across the street. Perhaps he stood out too much in the whipped crowd. Quickly, Gary averted his eyes and hunched over.

The group continued on in silence, not sprung yet. Noting from the corner of his eye that no Saffron enforcer was watching, Gary raised his head again and looked for Brock.

He was at the fore of the group, acting as a breaker to split the throng on either side of them. Coming up beside the large man, the Pallet trainer sparked conversation to break the silence over the party, unmindful of the many listening ears.

"Happy place, huh?"

"Hard to believe this used to be the economic capital of Kanto. Still is, I guess."

"Well, looks like it made it through those wars better than Cerulean did."

Brock rubbed his chin and hummed in agreement. "Still, it's rotting on the inside."

They shut up as they saw a car approach. It carelessly pushed through the crowd, pressing towards its destination. Through the window they could see a chauffeur and some fur-clad ladies in the back.

Watching the sole car pierce through the crowd and around a corner, they fell silent a moment, before Brock spoke up.

"A… I mean the League Champ, is refusing to do anything about the city's state."

"No money?" Gary suggested. The Nation did seem fairly ravaged.

Brock shook his head. "They have some. They're diverting it into other projects."

Gary made a confused face, and Eevee asked what he meant. Brock didn't look surprised and sighed.

"I suppose Misty has told you that _this,_" with 'this' he indicated the whole, screwed up world he lived in. "Is all the bickering Gym-Leader's fault, and that _he_ is innocent, and that we must save _him_."

Slowly, Gary nodded. "More or less."

Brock's expression became very stony, and a strange shade came over his nigh invisible eyes. "It's Tauros-crap – she's delusional. He's preparing to start a war."

Hardly registering any shock, Gary asked: "With who?"

"Who knows?" said Brock shrugging grimly. "Anybody; everybody. You know him, all he ever wants is a fight. It's his 'destiny'."

Gary set his eyes on Brock, betraying nothing save with his fingers fiddling with his necklace. "That's certainly true."

"He's got a whole philosophy built around it." Brock swept his hand up at a large poster of Ash, Pikachu riding on his shoulder, bursting from Indigo City on a map of Kanto. Eevee sneered at the image of the yellow mouse. "He treats politics like some sort of pokémon tournament."

This made Gary smile as he stepped over a flattened Grimer. "Hey, he's defiantly a battler, not a general."

Brock grabbed Gary by the collar and drew him close, almost rocking Eevee from his perch. "Basically, that's how the Resistance lasted this long – don't tell the others I said that, though." He whispered, glancing around conspiratorially and letting Gary go.

Brushing down his ruffled shirt, Gary looked up from under his brow at the olive-skinned man beside him.

"Hey," He said, fixing Brock with a serious look. "Don't touch what you can't afford – in the end, you pay for it."

Behind the two of them, Snap followed at an easy pace, cradling his covered rifle close and smoking merrily. He took harder and longer drags as though to see whether the cigarettes or street air would destroy his lungs quicker. He made no attempt to speak to anyone, as though here were a class unto himself, beyond any of his present company.

At his back, Misty hovered near Melissa, keen to talk. She'd never been good at conversation with girls – her friends had almost always been guys through her youth, and she found she was more comfortable among the boys.

Melissa, however, was different. She was hard and tough and was more masculine than most men Misty met. The two of them got on very well, even if Melissa thought Misty could be too priss, and Misty that Melissa 'manned' it up too forcefully. But it was good to have a girlfriend to talk too, especially in her time with the Resistance, where she knew only Brock.

And the thought of having a close friend among the monsters and conniving bitches of the Indigo court was hardly worth contemplating.

"So," she said slyly, slipping close to Melissa. "How's it going to with you and Brock?"

Her need for gossip was both disappointed and satisfied when Melissa bluntly responded; "We broke up."

"What?" Misty said, covering her mouth and frustrated that yet another attempt at playing matchmaker for Brock had failed. "Who broke it off?"

"I did." She responded, shoving her hands in her pocket and trying to focus on the people bumping by her. "Jeez, can't people look where they're going?"

Misty wasn't about to be sidetracked. "But why?" She cried. "He cooks, he cleans – and he loves it! – He's nice and romantic and…"

"He's immature." Melissa stated, cutting Misty off while looking away. "He's… He's never really grown up."

This threw Misty. She couldn't imagine anything better than escaping this black 'grown-up' world and be a child again.

"Isn't that a good thing?" She asked, fiddling with her backpack strap absently.

"Not when you want a meaningful relationship, no." Melissa responded.

"But he's so romantic!" Misty protested. Melissa made a face.

"A relationship's about more than chocolates and poetry." Melissa countered. "At any rate, I don't think he's too shaken – he's already back to his old ways."

Misty huffed. How could Brock be such a hopeless case? If he's not killing any prospects of a relationship with lust-induced, hormone-addled come-ons, he's ruining any actual chance he has with shallowness.

Watching her friend purse her lips, Melissa could tell what she's thinking. "It's not your responsibility to set that big kid up, Mist. It's his own fault for not being able to make a relationship work." She smiled. "Besides, what would you know about it? You married your childhood sweetheart – you've had it easy."

It really wasn't as easy as all that, Misty thought, especially between two personalities as stubborn as theirs. Not to mention the forced separations, or the constant adventures and dangers. Or the strong-armed dictatorship. But Misty spread a film of laughter to cover the topic.

"Koffing!"

They glanced at the cry, watching the floating, cratered ball hover mindlessly in the air. A creature born from pollution, Koffings were the pokémon deformed at every level, with the mind of a deeply autistic child. With rolled eyes and innocent smile, the Koffing's purple face was a picture of uncomprehending joy.

Misty scoffed when she noted it was the only smile on the whole street. "At least somebody's happy." She murmured.

-- --

The Resistance made their solemn way pressing through the barely-human crowd, passing by a non-descript alley slithering off the main road. Occasionally, a suited figure from the crowd would hover nearby, noticing a small figurine of a rocket resting on a rusted bent fire escape. Glancing about for fear of watching Enforcement Squads, these figures would peel quickly from the crowd and into this alley.

Nervously tiptoeing over puddles and sucking in their lips at the Grimers and Rattatas wallowing in the trash, these civilians who braved possible arrest would pace down the long passage into the labyrinthine backstreets of Saffron. Twisting at every secret sign – often an 'R' on the walls or a child's space toy, they came at last to a surprisingly ornate stall, draped with banners and signs.

Upon arrival, these jumpy business-types would immediately be greeted heartily by one of the stalls attendants.

"Helloooooo there!" Cried the thin man, blue hair bobbing with movement. "Step right up, take a look! Everything's on special; today only!"

"Foreign newspapers are two for one!" Added his teammate, a tall woman with serpentine red hair. "Hot off the press!"

Under the greasy and watchful grins of the two salesmen and the Persian manning the register, the customers looked over the wares. Foreign news releases, censored literature, erotica, weapons – every piece of contraband imaginable.

James slunk up to a bearded, tubby man eyeing some dirty magazines.

"Like what you see, eh?" He said, rubbing his hands greedily. "Ten percent off for a purchase of three or more!"

Under all the glancing eyes, the man went red and quickly paid the money into James' waiting hand to cover his shame and flee. As he went, the Team Rocket henchman noticed he had taken _male_ erotica. James rubbed his chin thoughtfully for a moment before Persian caught his attention.

"Hey!" The cat cried, smacking a teenager in the head. Several unregistered pokéballs slipped from the girl's sleeve. "No thieving from da thieves!"

"Listen brat!" Jesse roared, smile gone from her face at the first opportunity. "Are you going to pay for those…"

"…Or are we going to have to make you _pay_?" Finished James, hulking over as menacingly as he could. If the girl weren't already scared out of her mind it probably wouldn't have worked.

The kid's stammered uncontrollably. "I-I-I just wanted t-to prove I could b-b-be a Rocket!" She whimpered. "I… I-I-I don't have any m-money!"

Persian growled at the snivelling display. "Scram, kid!"

"We're not holding try-outs!" Said Jesse. The girl's nerve broke and she ran, and Jesse decided to let her go. There was no money in chasing her down.

"Hey, Jess." Said Persian, ignoring the horrified looks he was receiving as a talking pokémon. "We need more of dat socialist crap. We sold out."

Unwilling to do any manual work herself, Jesse turned to her male companion. "Oh James dear, could you grab that for us?" She cooed, batting her eyelashes.

James managed to conceal his shiver at Jesse calling him 'dear' and meekly complied, fearing retribution. He was about to slip through the curtain to the back of the store when a cry from above stopped him.

"Wooooobuffet!"

Looking up to the roof of a nearby low ceiling, Team Rocket saw their scout, the blue blob Wobuffet saluting down at them.

"The cops!" Cried James, putting his fingers to his lips.

"Sorry folks, the store's closing for today!" Urgently declared Jesse, sweeping the stock up into her arms while Persian nabbed the money. Paralysed in shock at how quick the trio had dissembled the stall, packed it away and were scrambling up the roof tops, the shoppers were left behind to fend for themselves against the Enforcement Squad weaving through the backstreets.

Recalling Wobuffet, Team Rocket began leaping roofs athletically to make their escape. There was no need to be concerned about being seen; no one in this town ever looked up.

"What a haul!" Exclaimed Persian, a bag of money tied around his neck.

Jesse and James were grinning with delight as they hauled their sacks. "Sure beats the old days, doesn't it James?"

"It's so great being bad _and_ rich!" He giggled.

"Hey," said Persian, looking down from the roof with his sharp eyes. "Ain't dose twerps?"

'Twerps' sent the three skidding to a halt. Shielding their eyes unnecessarily, the two humans began scanning the endless crowd for who Persian was looking for.

"Twerps?"

"Where?"

"Dere." Persian pointed with his paw. Following it, his comrades made out a pack that stood out – two cloaked figures, one sturdy woman, and two men standing arrogantly tall – one with what was obviously a gun draped in a rag.

"What terrible disguises!" Jesse said, her sense of professionalism offended.

"Those couldn't fool a blind Psyduck!"

"Hey, morons!" Cried Persian, batting them both to try and focus them. "What is dey doing here? In Saffron of all places?"

James' eyes went wide. "This place is crawling with psychics!"

Jesse saw his point too. "Won't they be caught?"

Pointing at the opposite roof, James waved on the other's attention. "Look!"

They turned and saw a man on the other roof, staring down at the twerps. He had thick black hair, waving gently in a non-existent wind, and was wearing the purple body suit and heavy grey coat of the Thought Police. His calm eyes were glowing bluish.

Team Rocket immediately went flat, peeking over the low wall tracing the roof.

"Do you think he saw us?" Whispered James. Jesse shook her head.

"What about his powers?" Persian asked. Jesse had no answer – none of them knew that the reason psychics had difficulty detecting them was because the trio emitted so little mental activity.

With a loud cry, Wobbuffet burst from his pokéball.

"Wooooobu-"

Jesse swiftly snatched her pokémon and dragged him to the ground. The psychic didn't notice over the din off the street, and soon enough turned and left the rooftop.

"They're after the twerps!" Jesse surmised, rolling over. James looked conflicted.

"Should we help them?"

"Dat depends…" Said Persian cunningly, while Wobbuffet smiled stupidly. "How much money is in it for us?"

-

-

**Author's notes:**

See next chapter. This was split up for being too long.

Anonymous reviews activated! Please Review!


	6. The City Lights Don't Shine So Bright 2

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Pokémon. If I did, I'd be rich. But I don't, and I'm not, so please don't sue me Nintendo.

-

**Grasping the Moon**

Chapter 5 – The City Lights Don't Shine So Bright

Part 2

Gary's lungs were getting used to the Saffron air, which he wasn't convinced was a good thing. Stretching tiredly, he massaged a sore point on his back. All things considered, he was surprised at how well he had recovered since yesterday – After all the fighting and straining, he was only a little sore, not a roaring ball of pain like he'd thought. Perhaps the others had healed him somehow?

He glanced at Eevee on his shoulder. The poor thing looked bored out of his mind, and Gary was inclined to agree – they had been walking for hours. A silence had drifted over the group, everyone letting their eyes drift over the repetitive, grey sights.

Glancing back, Gary noticed Melissa walking alone. Conversation with Brock had dropped off, and he didn't know her too well, so he slowed a little to come up beside her.

"Hey." He said.

"Hey." She said back.

Despite the graceless beginning, the two of them soon got talking. Gary found out she was from Pewter – he should have guessed from her complexion – and that she had been faithfully training pokémon professionally until the first anarchic wars broke out like a plague. She'd found herself defending her hometown under Brock, who thankfully wasn't as power-mad as other Gym Leaders.

She'd left when the League reformed, and soon enough Brock joined her and a new Pewter City Gym Leader was found.

In return, Gary tried to wow her with some of the tales from his adventures. She didn't impress easily, so he considered using some stories he generally didn't tell the public. Eevee knew what he was thinking and warned him off it, so Gary signed and stretched his arms behind his back.

"What a depressing place." He said. Melissa nodded. "But, hey, why's it so dangerous? I'd have thought this was prime Resistance recruitment property."

The Pewter trainer shook her head. "It's not so simple." She pointed to an upcoming street corner, where a Drowzee stood on a raised platform. The bizarre pokémon twitched its snout while waving its pendulum over the crowd. "The whole city is kept under hypnotic suggestion. It's hard to break."

Gary looked up at the Drowzee, remembering all the others he'd seen along the way. Peering ahead, he saw some Hypno at key points, making similar use of their powers.

"Huh, that's one way to keep a crowd under control."

"If you're wondering, we're not too affected because we have psychic protection." Gary noted that she failed to elaborate on the type of protection. She exhaled deeply and looked up mournfully. "This used to be the City of Wonder, but now you can't even see the moon through the night smog."

Gary didn't want to break her introspection, so said nothing. The conversation never resumed, and they kept walking for a while, ducking their heads whenever they saw some of the brown-clad officers.

Finally, Misty had enough of the pain in her legs and back, and stopped, crying out.

"Urgh! How long is this going to take!"

The group moved through the crowd into the mouth of a side street to talk. Snap was grinning.

"What's the matter? Too much for you?"

Misty seethed, but spared him death. "We've been walking who-knows-how long! Are we even going the right way?" She wouldn't put it past Brock to take them around in circles.

Unsurprisingly, Brock nervously scratched the back of his head. "Well, I think this is the way."

His companions collectively groaned, and Misty muttered something about men always getting her lost.

"Alright alright, listen up." Spoke up Gary, taking command. "The city looks like roughly the same layout as it used to. We should get out nicely if we go through there to the next street and follow that."

The others looked when Gary pointed out a large abandoned warehouse on the other side of the street. It was old and barely standing on its own foundations. Misty regarded it warily.

"Can't we just take the next left?" She offered, but Gary threw up his hands in exasperation.

"_Again_ with the complaining! Let's just go."

Pushing through the crowd with renewed vigour, the party slipped through the warehouse grounds gates. Brock only glanced around once to check for Enforcement Squads before strolling in. The general public was not likely to stop them if they walked in confidently enough.

Sauntering up to the warehouse doors, Brock and Gary worked together to pull open the huge doors, allowing Eevee to scurry in first. The warehouse was dark, permeated with the stench of dust and old metal. Misty cautiously slipped in, while Eevee jogged straight inside.

"Eeee?" He called, sending an echo through the room. He looked back with expectant eyes.

The others filed in, Brock last. He felt around and soon found a light switch while Snap idled lazily with a cigarette in hand.

Aged neon lights lit up across the ceiling, barely illuminating half the space. The team trotted through, Misty and Gary watching the deep shadows carefully.

"What are you so scared of?" Snap asked, grinning that frustrating grin. "Think the shadows are going to bite you?"

Melissa scowled at him, but Gary rose to the bait.

"I think you know that danger can come from anywhere, at anytime." Said the Pallet trainer, putting his fists to his hips.

"Sure thing." Said Snap. "But danger's no problem to a man with a gun."

Gary shrugged. "I've got a gun too you, know."

Laughing derisively, Snap countered. "You gotta know how to use it."

"It really doesn't matter." Brock said, finding the conversation good for lifting the tense air. "Using a gun is easy. Whip it out, shoot."

Snap scoffed, and, frankly, Gary agreed with him. "Spoken like a true amateur."

"If you're done arguing whose gun is longer," Melissa called out blandly, putting a smile on Misty's face. "Perhaps you big, strong, gun-toting men could help me with this?"

She'd reached the far end, and was waiting at the set of large doors. Brock and Gary stepped forward while Snap remained inactive while unpaid. They pulled hard, but the door didn't budge.

"Huh, locked." Brock mused while Gary looked it up and down. Misty groaned.

"So we have to walk all the way around again?"

"There doesn't seem to be any locking mechanism." Gary concluded, ignoring Misty while Eevee sniffed suspiciously at the base of the steel. "Maybe it's…"

Suddenly, someone behind them flicked their fingers, and the dull lights burst suddenly bright, lighting the warehouse like a stadium. The Resistance fighters spun, seeing a group of people waiting for them halfway back. Behind these people, through the gates, seemed to be a fleet of police cars, headlights trained on the warehouse.

"How'd they sneak that up on us?!" Melissa yelled. One of the group who'd come inside stepped forward. He was a soft-looking man with long dark hair, waving in a breeze that didn't blow. He wore purple spandex under a long grey cloak.

"You'll find our powers quite versatile." The man said. Misty recognised the uniform.

"The Thought Police…" she whispered. Grumbling, Gary threw a handful of money at Snap, who pocketed it.

"And the Enforcement Squadron." Said another man, this time a tall, muscular fighter with stark hair and headband. He didn't wear the brown uniforms that others wore, but a martial artist's gi. The psychic man grimaced at this newcomer, but stepped aside dutifully. "I am Kiyo, Fighting Master of Saffron, and acting Gym Leader in lieu of the title-holder." The first man didn't seem to like the fact. "MacKenzie, shall we begin?"

The League henchmen who had come inside split off in pre-ordained fashion, squaring off against a selected opponent. Snap was amused to find himself unassigned.

"Tell you what." He said to Brock, taking one last drag from his cigarette and stomping it. "I'll take the flunkies outside. Five thousand a head. Deal?"

Brock nodded once, eyes on the young lady approaching him. Snap's eyes lit up and he tossed the rag on his rifle away dramatically. He ran passed the League team to a good position. They ignored him.

The Thought Police Officer, MacKenzie, called out Melissa. She cracked her neck and came up.

Shaking herself as though preparing for a fistfight, she took a strong stance, waiting for a moment while the other fighters took their positions.

It was unexpected when she suddenly pulled a pistol and fired twice at her opponent.

MacKenzie remained still as the bullets struck a purplish field surrounding his body. The flattened shells fell to the concrete floor with a faint patter. MacKenzie didn't even smile.

"I knew you would do that." He said flatly, as though this battle was a movie he'd seen a hundred times before.

"Just like you knew we'd be here?" She shot back, trying to buy time and think of a way to kill him.

He smirked a little, but no more. "No, we were tipped off."

"Is that right? Well, it's funny because I'm getting a bit _ticked_ off." She cried, firing another shot, striking a barrel on one of the upper floors. It fell from over head, directly for MacKenzie's head. He saw it coming and caught it with his psychic field.

Melissa tried to capitalise and shoot him while he was distracted, but the field protected all around and shot went wasted. The Thought Policeman shook his head and used his psychic powers to drop the barrel safely to the ground.

He pulled a pokéball from his coat. "I know what happens next." He said, cracking open the ball and releasing a tall green bird that looked like it belonged on a totem pole. A Xatu. "I know you use a Golem now."

She tried not to look down at the pokéball in her hand, and kept her face neutral when she opened it to reveal her Golem. The rock turtle edged closer impatiently while Xatu stood passively. Melissa licked her teeth. "Well, if you don't mind, then shut up. I don't want you spoiling the show." She pointed at the Xatu. "Golem, Roll Out."

-- --

Gary found himself beckoned by the Fighting Master himself. Kiyo bowed respectfully when Gary approached within decent distance, and, amused, Gary and Eevee tried to imitate in return. Eevee did better.

"Kiyo, hey?" Gary started, rubbing his sharp chin. "I think I've heard of ya. You used to train with Chuck in Cianwood, right?"

"That's right." The martial artist nodded.

"You aren't as tubby as him."

"I'm faster." Kiyo claimed.

"And he's tougher, right?"

There was no response, and Kiyo took a very ornate fighting stance. He'd been quite respectful so far, so Gary decided not to fish around for his weapons in the ball, and fight unarmed. Kiyo recognised this appreciatively.

"Ah, a fair fight. They are hard to come by these days."

"Eee!" interjected Eevee, angry at being forgotten. The Fighting Master laughed.

"Ah, sorry. I had forgotten about you." He unhooked a pokéball from his black belt and opened in front of him. A small Tyrogue materialised, beating its chest in preparation.

Gary was unenthused. "A Tyrogue?"

"To match your pokémon's level, of course."

Gary waved dismissively. "That's an insult. Eevee, go guard the gate with the sniper-jerk."

Both pokémon looked disappointed, Eevee jogging to the open doors while Tyrogue was summoned back to his ball. Gary selected a ball from his belt and summoned his Blastoise. Kiyo liked the look of him, calling forth a towering grey pokémon with huge muscles and an extra set of arms jutting from its neck – his prized Machamp.

Nodding, Gary was satisfied. "Better."

Roaring, the two giant pokémon grappled heavily, while their two trainers sprinted around their large forms and threw their first blows.

-- --

Misty grit her teeth as she drew her hammer from… wherever it was she kept it.

"Why am I always stuck with the clowns?" She remarked bitterly, eyeing her opponents carefully.

There were three of them. The first was pencil thin, with tall blue hair, and boxing the shadows as a warm-up. The second was short and slight, with a shark fin hairdo, and taking some practice kicks in the air. The last was a heavyset fellow with a hideous bowl haircut, rolling his arms and taking a wrestler's stance. All three looked positively ridiculous in brown spandex.

"We're not clowns." Said Puncher, taking out a pokéball and conjuring a Hitmonchan. "We're deadly serious. My name's Kim."

"I'm Kail." Said Kicker, bringing out a Hitmonlee.

Fatty-Wrestler took out a Hitmontop. "I'm called Kai, and together we are…"

The entire group, humans and pokémon together, struck a choreographed pose. "The Invincible Brothers!"

Misty was less than impressed. "Uh-huh, so invincible you need to team up three-on-one against a girl." After a moment's reflection, she took two pokeballs. "Starmie, Psyduck, go for it."

Starmie was impressive, but Psyduck proved less intimidating when it fell on its beak the moment it emerged. Misty figured their psychic powers would help clean this up quick and without the collateral damage Gyrados would create.

Laughing at the yellow duck, the three Enforcement Squadmen ordered their pokémon forward before advancing on Misty themselves. She shook her head sadly at them.

-- --

_Five thousand smackers there_. Snap thought, plugging an Enforcement Officer who thought his car was good enough cover. He took out a second nearby before ducking back in through the window. _And another five._

Running in a crouch, Snap was having a good time. The wealth of windows and holes in the worn-down building meant he had plenty of relocation spots to avoid return fire. Enforcement Squad members seemed to rely on hand-to-hand weapons and pokémon, so it was the psychic Thought Police that posed a problem.

This in mind he dropped to the floor and aimed out a five-inch hole. One Thought Policeman was paying too much attention giving orders, and Snap got him through the side of the head. _Another five thousand in the bank_. That left maybe seven outside by his count. He switched aim for another one, and pulled the trigger.

Unfortunately, there was a telltale purple flash as the bullet struck a psychic field. Snap cursed under his breath and rolled back out of sight.

He was secretly grateful that the Eevee had taken to holding the door. It was strong and fast and surprisingly resistant to psychic attack, which meant that no one could run inside and get nasty and close (a pile of gored bodies was all that was left of those who'd tried).

This meant Snap had all the time in the world to change ammo. He reached into his satchel and fished around. He had to move all the liquid nitrogen-bullets he'd needed to take out the rock-pokémon from yesterday, but he found what he was looking for.

Snap drew out of his bag a bullet made from black pig iron, strange runes etched into it, causing it to glow with sick light. He quickly slipped it into the chamber.

Brushing his red hair from his eyes, he jumped up to a near window and passed over a few good shots before targeting the psychic who'd put up the field earlier. Snap took the shot, and the magic bullet he used passed right through the purple field and into the Thought Policeman's heart.

_Three thousand five hundred._ Snap thought bitterly as he watched the psychic fall, and then ducked from sight. _I should have charged more for the Thought Police._

-- --

Golem pulled another chunk of concrete from the ground and tossed it at the circling Xatu. The green bird slipped easily around the projectile, which went far and crumpled a stack of barrels. Bellowing in rage, Golem made a pathetic leap and tried to punch the bird, but it knew his move too well and countered by activating its psychic powers.

Melissa ground her teeth impotently as her one tonne Golem was lifted easily from the ground in a blue glow and tossed twenty feet. The Xatu wasn't even taking commands from its trainer – MacKenzie stood silently at the far side of the battle, perfectly protected by his field.

_They could be communicating telepathically… _Melissa considered, but she couldn't keep denying that the pokémon apparently knew everything she and Golem would do before it was done.

MacKenzie apparently knew what she was thinking too, and finally opened his mouth.

"To Xatu, all time appears as the present." He lectured, hands in pockets. He kept his doughy eyes firmly on Melissa. "He already knows how this fight ends, let alone what move you'll make next."

Golem staggered upright again, irrational from anger. Melissa had hoped he'd weather the physical assault, but it was not working. She recalled him before he did himself anymore damage. The Xatu landed, still eerily silent.

"You see," The Thought Policeman continued. Melissa was sure behind his stoic, podgy face, the bastard was enjoying torturing her like this. "Time is just a television show. To tell the future, you merely have to fast forward to the point you want."

Melissa necessarily had to disbelieve him. She had to have faith that their psychic coverage disrupted his foresight at least a little. He may know bits and pieces, but he couldn't possible know it all. He couldn't.

Steeling herself, Melissa took another pokéball and made the move she should have from the start.

"Sneasel." Said MacKenzie off hand, and sure enough, the shadowy, short pokémon with long claws appeared.

Being a dark-type, Sneasel emitted a strange, otherworldly energy that cancelled out psychic powers altogether. That would mean Xatu's psychic blasts would fail to grasp him, and hopefully would render its foresight useless as well.

"Fury Swipes!" Melissa ordered, and her pokémon sprinted low at the Xatu, ready to leap if it took flight. Across the battlefield, the League mindbender shook his head.

"I didn't need foresight to see this coming." He commented, as a crushed barrel from before sped across the field and smashed into Sneasel's side, thrown by Xatu's psychic strength.

_Crap_. Melissa thought, considering if it would help to shoot at Xatu. _Probably not_, she decided, watching Sneasel get to his feet, not nearly licked yet.

The green bird took to air, and Sneasel braced himself. For her part, Melissa was struggling to come up with some move or strategy that could work against someone who knew the future. Nothing was coming to her.

Sneasel rolled to the side, dodging a swoop from the Xatu (which was clever enough to know its psychic attacks would not work on the dark-type), but the bird knew it was coming and struck out with its wing. Sneasel was hit hard.

"Damn it all." Melissa said. "Sneasel, Take Down." If she couldn't think her way out of destiny, maybe she could fight her way out. Her pokémon launched himself high into the air, barrelling for Xatu's stomach. The bird dodged with room to spare, letting the dark pokémon slam hard into the ground.

"It's hopeless." Said MacKenzie, who was content to stand and watch.

"Slash!" Was Melissa's response, and Sneasel bounded again, aiming to rake his long claws across Xatu's body. Xatu turned mid-flight and headed straight for Sneasel with the intent of pecking it straight in the head.

Melissa grimaced. She could see where this was going – Sneasel couldn't take much more, and Xatu was practically fresh. What was she going to do?

Suddenly, when the two pokémon neared each other, something weird happened. Xatu, features still firm, aborted its attack, opening its chest to Sneasel. The dark-type's claws cut deep, lethally deep. The bird went down in a shower of green blood.

Surprised that his attack had landed, Sneasel couldn't control his fall and struck the ground hard again. Melissa gaped in shock while for the first time MacKenzie's face registered emotion. The psychic rushed to its dead pokémon's side.

"I don't get it!" He cried, tears coming to his eyes over his oldest friend's corpse. He couldn't understand why Xatu let itself get killed. "If you knew it would end like this, why bother going through the motions at all?"

He was so caught up in his grief that he didn't notice Melissa recover and pull her gun on him. Three shots later and he was with Xatu.

-- --

Brock's Onix was tossed aside as another pre-ordained blast exploded beneath it. The Stantler he fought galloped to avoid a counter-attack from his tail, leaving Stantler's false-head rear to fire a returning psychic blast.

The rock snake rolled back from the attack and burrowed into the ground, causing the building to shake. Stantler couldn't work out how, after being blasted so hard and so often, the Onix could be unaffected. The deer-like pokémon hopped from its spot as the stone snake erupted from underneath it, missing narrowly.

As Stantler battled on, its trainer, Cherry, was also confused over her opponent. As she lifted the Rock Master Brock high with her mental powers, he still refused to even attempt to fight back.

"Hey," he said, smiling down at her. "I know this is an awkward time, but would you like to catch dinner some time?"

Hissing with disgust, Cherry dropped him to the ground. "Will you shut up and take me seriously!"

Her anger failed to abate as Brock stood up again without trouble. "Hey, come on, make love not war, right?"

"You are such a hypocrite for saying that, rebel!" She cried, tossing a psychic blast at him. He only stumbled back a step.

"Let's not start with the name-calling, hey?" He said, a sleazy smile on his face as he stepped towards her. "It doesn't become a girl as beautiful as you."

While she wasn't often called 'beautiful' (usually 'frightening' or 'monster'), she nonetheless couldn't stand it coming from a rebel's mouth. Knowing how to use her fists as well as her mind, she decided to use her Enforcement Squad training. Rock-types were not just vulnerable to psychic attack, but fighting techniques too.

Brock whistled in appreciation as Cherry swiftly struck a martial arts stance. The way her round black haircut worked against her over-sized grey coat made her look small and cute, but the dangerous look in her eye was enticing too. Not to mention the way the purple spandex lovingly hung onto her body.

"We getting rough, are we?" He asked.

Snarling, Cherry sprung forward with a rolling punch, which Brock took in the gut. She unleashed a vicious series of attacks all over Brock's body. It was like hitting a stonewall, and soon she tired.

Panting she glared at Brock, who hadn't budged an inch. He opened his mouth to say something, but she pre-empted him, charging her fist with psychic energy. It was dangerous to do, since it could push her body beyond its limits, but she lashed out and cracked Brock right in the chin.

He grinned right through it and didn't even have the courtesy to bruise. "Hey, this is a little too rough for me." The man called 'Boulder King' said. "Perhaps we should take a break and try to talk this out? Perhaps over lunch?"

Screaming in frustration, Cherry brought up both her hands, calling on all her psychic strength. A blue-purple aura shimmered around Brock as she squeezed, trying to crush the man. His muscles visibly strained, but no pain appeared on his squinty-eyed face.

Cherry was going out of her mind. "Why?!" She cried, squeezing harder. "Why don't you hurt?"

"Oh, I hurt." He said, amazing the psychic by moving his arm, even under all that force, and bringing it up to tap his left breast. "I just take it all in here."

Revelation suddenly came over Cherry, and she let up a little in her shock. "They call you Crumble-Heart…"

Brock's smile finally broke. "Yeah, well, I'm sometimes called 'Stone-Baron' or 'Everlasting' as well. They like over-inflated titles around here."

For reasons she couldn't quite explain, Cherry wavered a moment, but before anything could come of it, she was pistol-whipped from behind. As the girl collapsed, Brock was released, looking up at Melissa.

"Hey." He said, smirking. "Jealous?"

Melissa rolled her eyes, turning to see Onix binding up Stantler, who was just now squeezed into unconsciousness. "Why are you so _annoying_?"

"You know you still want me." Brock smiled, then winced. "Ow, this'll hurt in the morning." He commented, cradling his ribs. "Thanks for saving me."

"Never mind that, lets help the others."

-- --

Kai made to grab Misty, only to get a hammer-butt in the gut. As he staggered back, his thinner 'brothers' – if they were even related – came in for the attack. Kail tried to sweep Misty's feet while Kim jabbed at her face, but she stomped down on Kail's leg and head butted Kim.

They staggered back, and then ducked as Misty swung her hammer, her blue cloak billowing behind her. They took their distance.

"Idiots." Misty muttered under her breath. She took a few test swings with her hammer to keep up her rhythm then settled it over her shoulder. "Even if there are three of you, you're mad for coming at me unarmed."

The Invincible Brothers made no reply save to attack again. Kail leapt high with an impressive high kick, Kim came in low for an uppercut, and Kai lunged forward for a hulking grapple. Misty groaned before she reacted.

She jumped and put a spinning kick into Kail's chin before, swinging down with her hammer and slamming Kai in his meaty stomach. Kim had time to rise up for his strike, but Misty twisted herself behind him as she fell, putting the bar of her hammer against his throat.

Kim was dragged back, strangled, while his brothers rose to their feet. The boxer as a shield and prisoner, Misty fixed the others with a solid glare.

"Listen," she said seriously. "I don't want to kill any of you – just give up. The other fights are practically over."

"You should have thought of that before you abandoned the Champion!" Sputter Kim in front of her.

"He will kill many people when he finds out." Rumbled Kai.

"And it'll be your fault." Kail argued, warming up for another attack.

Narrowing her eyes, Misty let Kim go and kicked him in the back. The fight was soon rejoined.

Stamie was faring well enough, caught up in some sort of whirling dervish duel with Hitmontop. They spun almost out of control, orbiting around each other, almost fear to strike the other and throw their patterns out of whack.

Nearby, Hitmonchan had caught Psyduck in a full nelson while Hitmonlee was having a free-for-all with its heavy kicks into Psyduck's head. The duck's eyes grew increasingly more glazed, and the fighting pokémon naturally assumed they were nearing a total knockout.

"Psy! Psy! Psy!" The duck squeaked with every blow.

Unfortunately, though they lived in the psychic capital of the entire continent, they weren't familiar with how Psyduck's powers worked. The harmless-looking creature was fast building up a deadly headache.

All at one, it unleashed. The Psyduck's eyes glowing blue, Hitmonlee found its leg caught in mid-air. A blue haze glimmering from Psyduck's feathers, and the two fighting pokémon found themselves lifted easily into the air.

"Psyyyy…" hissed the suddenly sinister duck. The expression on Hitmonchan's face was not hopeful.

Even though he was gasping heavily, Kim staggered forward for another hook, only to be struck in the side by a flying Hitmonlee. As he collapsed on the ground, Kail looked on in shock.

"Kim?" He said, and then slipped out of the way just in time to avoid Hitmonchan flying at him. He and Kai glanced to the side to see Psyduck, glaring at them. They cringed.

Misty smirked. "See that? You should have thought this through."

The glowing duck turned towards Hitmontop's battle with Starmie. The hovering star recognised Psyduck's battle-ready state and stopped his spinning when Hitmontop was between the two water pokémon.

Hitmontop, confused as to why Starmie had paused, hesitated a moment, but then found itself stuck – caught between the twin psychic forces. Frozen in place, Hitmontop snarled, though inverted it looked like an insane grin.

Working as one, Psyduck and Starmie lifted the pokémon up into the air and hurling him into a pile with his two brothers. When they saw he wasn't getting up, they turned their attention to their mistress.

Seeing her pointless battle come to a close, she shot forward with her hammer. She caught Kail on the shin, breaking his leg. The thin fighter screamed as he fell, but his big 'brother' took the chance to pull Misty off the ground into a great bear hug.

He squeezed hard, causing Misty to cry out. Unable to use her hammer or legs, she rammed her forehead into Kai's nose. He didn't falter, and she head butted again and again, leaving the big man's nose a bloody pancake, but not loosening his grip a bit.

"You're finished now." He gargled, crushing her ribs. Misty screamed aloud, trapped.

Then a blue aura covered each of Kai beefy arms, pulling them slowly back. He saw what was happening.

"No! NO!"

Helpless against the mental powers of Misty's two pokémon, Kai's grip was soon loosened enough that Misty slipped easily to the ground.

Refilling her lungs, Misty watched and his arms were broadened by force. The big man held open before her, she had all the time she needed to make a controlled strike to his temple.

"Goodnight." She said, knocking him unconscious.

Thanking and recalling her pokémon, Misty turned to check up on the others. Brock and Melissa were walking towards her, leaving… Her eyes shot open. Gary!

-- --

Nobody noticed them in the crowd, despite their garish Team Rocket uniforms. Poking their heads over the assembled onlookers, Jesse and James tried to get a good idea of what was going on.

"What's happening?" Prodded Persian from their feet. "I can't see a ting but calves."

"There's a police blockade into this warehouse." Advised Jesse.

"And there's fighting going in there." James added, hearing the thunderous sounds of pokémon battling. A sudden shot rang out, causing the crowd to instinctively duck.

Looking back up they saw an Enforcement Squadman with a hole in his head. Weaker stomachs turned away.

"What was dat?" Persian asked.

"The sniper." James concluded, hammering his fist into his hand.

"Definitely." Agreed Jesse, looking for a way around the crowd. "Are we going to go through with this?"

"Money is money, Jesse." Lectured the blue-head. "We need to protect our investment."

"Hurry up, let's get too it." Demanded Persian anxiously, darting through the fascinated spectator's legs. His partners desperately tried to keep up.

Inside, Snap was slowly increasing his volume of swearwords per second. Shoving a cigarette into his mouth, he didn't even bother lighting up before cursing again and glancing out a hole in the wall. He had done a good job keeping the besieging forces pinned, but things were getting out of hand.

The League Kadabras may have been confused at first at how an Eevee could resist their psychic manipulations, but they were now cluing into the fact they could use their powers to throw other stuff at him. Snap wasn't how long the door would hold, but it might not matter anyway.

An Enforcer had managed to sneak in by the wall as was now getting his Machop to bash in the wall. Snap couldn't get a shot, not even a bad one. If they opened up a way inside, things would get very mess very fast.

"What I would give for a bullet that turned corners…" He muttered, hoisting his rifle and blasting a Polywhirl who thought he could switch cover without him noticing.

"Another five thousand." He said behind his cigarette. Snap almost ducked back down when he noticed something weird happening down among the Enforcement Squads and Thought Police.

A black fog was creeping across the ground, smoking up the field so that none of the League thugs could see anything. It did still afford Snap, though, a decent view.

Lining up his next shot, he was suddenly introduced to the source of the smokescreen.

"Prepare for trouble!"

"Make it double!"

A pair in white uniforms had jumped atop a parked Enforcement car. They made an awful show of themselves, and Snap couldn't shake the feeling he'd seen them before somewhere.

"To protect ourselves from market inflation!"

"To divide the peoples of every nation!"

"To espouse the truth that greed is love!"

"To extend our reach to the moon above!"

"Jesse!" The woman showed some leg. Snap thought she was pretty hot

"James!" The girly man dumped a shower of rose petals through the smoke, causing even more confusion.

"Team Rocket grows its financial might!"

"Surrender now or prepare to fight!"

"Peeeeersian!" A remarkably vocal Persian cried as it pounced on a nest of Eggsecute. "That's right!"

Snap took a moment to marvel as the two melodramatic figures brought their other pokémon into the fight, then remembered himself and fired upon the disordered Leaguers. Things were suddenly looking up.

-- --

Gary had to hand it to Kiyo, he knew how to fight. His style wasn't some dojo-bound esoteric dance, but real and deadly, though a dash showy. The fighter demonstrated by launching into a front flip, landing with a fast overhead axe kick.

Stepping out of the way, Gary tried to punch back, but Kiyo caught the attack and twisted Gary over his shoulder. The Pallet trainer went flying and bounced a little before rolling to his feet.

"Hooo…" He said, settling into an old boxing stance he found effective – fists high and forward. "I totally should have used my sword…"

Kiyo smiled. "At least it wouldn't have been the gun." He said before kicking rapidly at Gary's stomach, and making Gary wonder how long they had been watching them.

Things going as they were, Gary figured there was a chance he wouldn't win. That in mind, he decided to draw the fight near the battling pokémon. That way Kiyo's flow might be disrupted by, say, being stepped on.

Blastoise and Machamp were pushing hard against each other. The two titans stamped around the warehouse floor violently, trying to round on the other. Blastoise was too close to make use of his hydro-cannons, but he was confident enough without them.

While Machamp grabbed onto said cannons with its extra arms, Blastoise leant forward and bit into its shoulder. Machamp roared with pain, but didn't give.

Gary found his plan was a double-edged sword. The two of them were spending as much time avoiding their pokémon as much as killing each other. Jumping away from Blastoise stepping backwards, the fighter slipped under the blue turtle's legs to chop at Gary's throat.

The target bent bodily back, dodging the shot, and sprung forward with two fists. Kiyo took it on his forearms, and then jabbed at Gary twice before striking him with a left cross. The thinner man stumbled back.

"Face it, Gary Oak." Kiyo said, suddenly serious, stepping out of the way of his Machamp. "I'm better than you."

"Tauros-crap."

"Very well, I'm a better empty-handed combatant. You faced me at my point of strength, and that was your downfall."

"So you're saying I should have fought to type?" Gary said, testing his nose for bleeding. Their conversation halted when the realised that they were surrounded by Gary's companions, not to mention the giant Onix, Psyduck and Starmie. Kiyo frowned.

Melissa smiled. "I guess we should finish this up finally."

"Just give up and we won't have to kill you." Misty insisted, a serious look on her face and hard gleam on her hammer.

They sprung back when Gary wildly pointed at them. "Butt out!" He screamed wildly.

Brock looked confused. "But why? He'll beat you if you keep up like this."

"That's why I have to do this myself." Gary hissed, glaring Kiyo in the eyes. "Ash never played the smart way, and he won by pure strength alone." He explained, ignoring Brock cower at the mention of the 'A-word'. "I spent years trying to be that strong."

Blastoise bellowed in pain as Machamp punched at the side of his head with its extra hands. The turtle ducked his head into his shell to avoid the attacks. Melissa looked down from the wrestling match angrily.

"That is idiotic. I'm shooting this jerk now." She raised her pistol, but stopped when Gary turned on her angrily.

"If you do," He said, something dark and hideous in his face. "I will kill you."

Having watched this man fight every pokémon in the known world at once and kill most of them, Melissa was forced to take this threat seriously. She slowly lowered her gun.

As his opponent turned back to face him, Kiyo bowed with renewed respect. "I am honoured. Deeply."

Gary grinned and took up his stance again. "And I will wound you. Deeply."

Within an arena marked out by Onix, Gary, Kiyo, Blastoise and Machamp resumed their death-duel. Melissa was fuming, and Brock was observing with interest. Misty watched on with a desperate look on her face.

"Don't…" she whispered. "It's just the same as him…"

Kiyo started off with a long leaping kick. It was a feint, and he spun into a low shin-strike, followed with a series of forearm attacks. Gary swept them all and slipped behind the martial artist, grabbing his shirt and throwing him roughly to the side.

Saffron's temporary Gym-Leader regained his footing easily. As he prepared to attack, he was shocked to see Blastoise swing Machamp suddenly at him.

He had to roll desperately away to avoid being crushed. Machamp, for his part, lost his footwork trying to steer clear of hitting his master, giving Blastoise a sudden advantage. Gary laughed.

"You know you're problem?" Gary said, rolling his neck. "You and your pokémon work separately, not as a team." He raised a tutoring finger in the air. "There is a sacred bond between trainer and pokémon – mystical, even."

This sounded familiar to Kiyo. "The Champion also says such things…"

"I know he does." Gary responded, a strange look in his eye as he fiddled with his necklace. "And that's why he's Champion."

Gary and Kiyo charged each other and exchanged blows. Kiyo rounded on Gary, being slightly faster, but bumped into Machamp's leg. Attack interrupted, Gary capitalised and kicked him in the stomach.

Watching, Brock whistled while he rubbed his chin. Melissa, who was sitting on one of Onix' segments, looked down at him.

"What?"

"Trust Gary to fight so well." The olive-skinned man replied, watching as Gary skilfully disrupted the Fighting Master's techniques by co-ordinating his fight with Blastoise. "He's not just trying to be as strong as… you-know-who. He's being smart as well."

Misty, who was trying to sort out her conflicting feelings of worry and disgust, whimpered. "You-know-who was never that smart." She noted lowly, fiddling with her blue cloak. "Is Gary better than him now?"

Brock didn't respond, having turned his inscrutable eyes on Misty.

Gary effected a major turn-around when he kicked his opponent in the kneecap, then grabbed him by the throat and thrust him backwards. Blastoise saw, and shoved Machamp mightily, causing it and Kiyo to collide roughly.

Coughing, Kiyo tried to speak. "Enough! I give, I give."

"You give?" Gary repeated darkly. "Oh no no no, this isn't the old days. We don't just battle, kiss and make up anymore." There was that dark look in his eyes again. "In this new Kanto, you lose, you die."

The surrendering Fighting Master frowned, wondering how the once-errant Gary could suppose to know Kanto better than he. He was about to say something when the red-headed girl shouted.

"Gary, stop it!" She was angry. The spikey-haired man turned.

"What?"

"We don't need to kill him, let's knock him out and go."

Wrestling with himself at length, Gary finally let the martial artist drop. Blastoise did similar with Machamp. Misty smiled.

"There's no need." Kiyo said breathing easily again and hiding his eyes. "We won't stop you."

Gary had every faith that he wouldn't, and withdrew Blastoise into his ball, Brock doing likewise with Onix. This cause Melissa to fall roughly to the ground, and 'Crumble-Heart' laughed shortly. That moment Snap rushed down to him, Eevee at his heels.

"Hey!" He cried. "The guys outside have cleared out."

Melissa looked critical, though she was relieved the fight was over. "You did that all by yourself?" She asked, looking at his rifle.

"Ee!" Protested Eevee. Snap finally lit up his cigarette.

"Nah, some gang or something attacked as well." He looked at Kiyo and Machamp, who had their heads down. "Are we leaving them alive?"

Gary shook his head and led them outside, Eevee falling in at his side.

Not one, not even the Fighting Master, noticed the black dog watch them from a dark corner. It entered the shadows and disappeared.

-- --

The Saffron authorities had indeed fled, as did the crowd. Traces of smoke clung to the dead and debris, and an eerie quiet fell over the yard. Gary hurried the group along to one of the Squad cars.

"Does anyone remember how to drive?" He asked the group, while Brock unhappily piled money into Snap's hands. No one answered.

Slowly, embarrassed, Misty raised her hand.

"We have heaps of cars on Indigo Plateau." She explained as Gary let her into the front seat. "But Ash generally gets me bikes."

"Bikes?" Melissa asked, as Brock cringed.

"Yeah, he gets me about me a hundred every birthday."

Brock snarled. "How romantic." 'The Boulder-King' said sarcastically, slipping into the car. "We need to get moving and get the hell out of this city."

The all crammed in, Eevee on Gary's lap, and Snap's rifle causing everyone problems – not to mention the smoking. As Misty tenderly started the vehicle and pulled into the street, the pedestrians parted. Cruising down the street with no problem, Brock flicked his squinty eyes between Misty and the warehouse they were departing from.

"You should have killed him." He said to Gary, who could only nod in regret.

-- --

In Lavender Town, the wrecked homes had not even been touched. No one dared leave their homes even to fix the damaged to their haunted town. Gastlys and Murkows had gathered around the various pokémon corpses to take their fills, the smell of decay choking up the whole town.

One man, however, stood in the street, unmindful of the lawless horrors all around. The ghosts and dark things would not accost him, as they considered him tantamount to one of their own. A man smelling of so much death could only feed them.

Kneeling down, the ninja Koga grabbed up a handful of dirt, sniffing it. He could smell nothing on it, not even the smell of earth, through the stench of dead pokémon. Even so, he dropped it from his hand and stood.

Breathing in again, he glared out into the distance, toward dark Saffron.

"I can smell you," He growled hoarsely. "Gary Oak!"

-

-

**Author's notes:**

Well, that went on much longer than I planned. I've broken it up into two parts for ease of reading.

Sorry that fight went on and on – too many characters. I want to keep them as short as possible in the future.

I'm starting to regret evolving Meowth into Persian – I think I liked him better little. I might retroactively edit it out if I get too sick of it.

You may have noticed that I like to use characters from the show or game rather than making them up, even if they're just minor characters, or characters-of-the-week. I always feel cheap using an OC in a fanfic, like it's cheating. See if you can identify them all! (Hey, I should make a game out of that…)

Anonymous reviews activated! Please read and review!


	7. Lost in the Garden 1

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Pokémon. If I did, I'd be rich. But I don't, and I'm not, so please don't sue me Nintendo.

-

**Grasping the Moon**

Chapter 7 – Lost in the Garden

Part 1

Built in a large annex to the Indigo City Pokémon Arena was a large hall. It was ornately adorned, lined with finely sculpted decorations and iron statues. All the pomp was wasted, however, by the perpetual darkness the room was kept in – not pitch black, but shadowy enough to give the meeting room a foreboding quality.

This dread room was chosen as the meeting place for special assemblies of the Gym-Leadership of Kanto. Will had taken his seat, glancing up at the head of the table.

There sat the League Champion, resting his sneakers on the oak table. Even though Ketchum liked to keep things casual, he was committed to punctuality. He often said that an agreed time was a vow between people, and arriving late was like breaking a promise.

_Lucky there's still a few minutes_, Will thought, thinking of the rest of Kanto's leadership. Will drifted his eyes over to the empty seat at Ketchum's left onto May, who was playing bored tug-of-war with the League Pikachu. She looked up and met his eyes. It was a shame she sat up with the Elite Four at the Champion's side at the head of the long table – there was no one within talking distance of Will.

Leaning against the wall near the door was a short man wearing something between a scout uniform and archaeologist gear. His head was draped in an androgenous haircut that, with his khaki shorts, made him look younger than he was. Will flared his nostrils – this grubby specimen was Bugsy.

_No, don't look this way_, Will thought as Bugsy caught his gaze. The psychic quickly averted his eyes and hoped the bug-obsessed clinger-on wouldn't come over. Why he was even here was a mystery – He held neither titles nor leadership position, certainly no seat at the table. Will consistently tried to convince the Champion to squash this pest.

Will looked up from under his brow, and saw the leech smile, showing rows of dirty teeth. He was about to come over and bug Will when the doors opened.

Thankful, Will adjusted his glasses and looked with the rest of the room's occupants. Jasmine, the Iron Maiden, strode regally into the meeting hall, her white dress luminescent in the dark. She walked past Bugsy, who ran his eyes over her lecherously, and ignored him, heading for her shimmering steel seat.

No one spoke, and May flicked Pikachu in the ear.

"Pi-ka!" The rat complained, causing her to smile slightly.

The doors creaked open again, revealing an interesting juxtaposition – Lieutenant 'American Lightning' Surge's hulking camo visage set against Erika, the 'Green Knight' – a tiny woman who had dressed up in her traditional Japanese style for the evening.

They both walked quietly towards Will, Surge turning to smile at May. She pointedly ignored him, causing the American to frown. The Saffron psychic watched this with some amusement. _With a girl like May, Surge-y old boy, you should have known what to expect_, He thought, sweeping his scarf over his shoulder.

As Surge took his lightning-themed seat next to Will, and Erika her seat of twisted wood between Pewter and Vermillion, the doors remained open. The pair who came in darkened the mood even more considerably.

The first, born on a magically hovering chair, was the old hag Agatha. She was wrapped in sweaters and strung with beads, feathers and occult symbols. Will stared at her deeply crevassed face, wondering if the witch could even talk anymore – other than in his nightmares that is.

Next to the levitating spell-weaver was a tall woman with frighteningly white hair and evil eyes. She had a technically sexy body and revealing silk dress, but unlike May who bore her looks seductively, this woman's sexuality was like a weapon, a force. It was so stark as to be obscene. Not even Bugsy checked her out – she wasn't attractive in the least.

This bizarre creature was Karen, the Unmentionable. Another of her titles was 'Gym-Slayer', as she had infamously murdered her own Night Gym the moment she was accepted into the Elite Four. She bent over and kissed Agatha brutally, causing the room to look away in disgust, before the pair separated to take their seats.

As Agatha passed behind Will's back and settled in the rear of the hall (she was not technically a Gym-Leader nor a member of the Elite Four, and thus could not sit at the table), Will looked across to see Karen take her seat at Ash's right hand.

_How does he bear sitting near her like that?_ He wondered, watching the Champion casually nod as she spread herself across her black chair. Saffron's Gym-Leader saw May thinking the same thing, as she frowned at the woman across from her.

Ash looked over to May, who checked her watch. It looked like time was running out.

Will glanced up when he heard footsteps outside. With maybe a handful of seconds left, a new party arrived. It was Lorelei and her supporters.

Her high heels clopping on the tiles, the Ice Queen sat beside May. They exchanged icy looks. Blaine hurried down to sit at Will's right side, in a chair fashioned to look like flames. Janine passed over four empty seats to sit opposite Blaine, all by her lonesome. She had a specially adapted chair, allowing her to kneel at a raised height – her father had a similar one at the higher end of the table.

Will winked at her, smiling when she heated up and suddenly found the oak table very interesting.

Ash sat up straight when he saw them take their positions, Pikachu running to his lap. "Great, you're all here."

The Psychic Gym-Leader saw many of the others glance around in surprise, and he knew why. There were many empty seats – Koga was missing, and Falkner's winged chair was empty. A string of three blue chairs were unused, belonging to the Cerulean Waterflowers – though everyone was happy they never turned up, since their airhead ramblings were a pain. The old Cerulean Gym-Leader, Misty, was absent, her chair by the Champion's side, but she was often exempt from attendance.

Of course, there was the perpetually empty chair at the opposite end of the table to Ash. Just whom this _Seige Perilous_ was for, the Champion never said.

The Great Kanto Trainer was aware of this confusion, but turned to the Frozen Maiden left of him.

"Could you start us off, Lorelei?"

She stood up and addressed the gathered loudly.

"Falkner, the Viridian Gym-Leader, known as High-Flyer, Elegant, Far-Leaper, is dead." She stated without drama. Many of the other shifted uncomfortably at his news, exchanging looks.

"We discovered his murder when we investigated the destruction of Mount Moon." Lorelei continued, indicating her accomplices Blaine and Janine.

"What fun." Interrupted Karen as she stroked her white lips with a finger, her voice somewhere between husky and hateful. "Who could have done such a thing?"

Will noticed the Champion smiling knowingly, but not say anything while Lorelei glowered at Karen, not appreciating the interruption.

"Evidence suggests the Rebellion." She said, fixing her sleeve. An old, poorly maintained mechanism whirred from within the giant table, and an opening appeared at its centre. It revealed a black lense, and a flickering hologram was projected from it, a mass of static. Surge struck the table a few times until the old machine kicked in properly, turning the scrappy image into something halfway legible, if choppy and grainy.

It was a Map of Kanto. A mark appeared somewhere north of Pewter City.

"This is the site we found Falkner's body, along with some of the elite aces of the Viridian Airborne Unit." Lorelei explained. Another mark then appeared over Mt. Moon, a line connecting the two. "The middle of the next night, Mount Moon exploded."

Jasmine leaned in, sticking up her noise. "The inhibitions to production were considerable." She gave her piece.

Lorelei kept her irritation inside. "Indeed. Now, at Cerulean…" she paused as the line passed through the city. "Nothing of note occurred." Will instantly sensed that she was lying, and saw Janine and Blaine exchange glances. The line went on and stopped at the Rock Tunnel. "The next event of interest occurred at the Rock Tunnel, where the guardian was slain."

A dark chuckle rose from Karen's throat, causing many to shiver. "Oh yes," she said. "It was so deliciously tragic."

Clearing his throat, Blaine chimed in. "Explanation: Elite Four First Karen and the honourable Agatha were in Lavender at the time. That is how we came upon this information."

"Their assigned escort from the Unassigned Corps stumbled upon and engaged the suspects in question." Lorelei went on for the Quizmaster. "He was killed."

Will saw May puzzle over Ash as he seemed unsure whether to smile or frown on hearing of Richie's death. The psychic cleaned his glasses on his scarf and raised a question.

"If these rebels – if they are rebels – were set on causing trouble everywhere they set foot, how did they pass through Cerulean in so docile a fashion?"

To Will's left, he felt Erika and Surge nod while to his right, Blaine tensed. Will had his eye on Janine, who nailed her eyes to the table so as not to give herself away. Lorelei stared him down straight.

"A fair question, Thought-Poet. However, I think that the absent Gym-Leaders' incompetence speaks for itself." She replied evenly, glancing at the seats reserved for Cerulean. In his corner, Bugsy laughed aloud.

Smiling, Will replaced his glasses, content to leave the matter at that. Lorelei continued.

"The Dark and Ghost Masters cleverly informed the Saffron authorities of the rebels approach." The path cut into the large metropolis' spot on the map. "Sadly, even with warning, Saffron's two Gyms suffered considerable loses, including your second, Fair-Tongue – Kiyo, the Fighting Master." She said, looking again at Will, the 'Fair-Tongue'.

"Addition: At this time we received from survivors reports of the presence of influential Rebellion leader Brock, the Crumble-Heart."

At this news, all eyes went to the Champion, expecting some volcanic eruption. However, there was nothing but a smile on his face, which was probably more frightening.

"It is our prediction that the Rebels will now move either onto Vermillion or Celadon." Lorelei concluded, indicating the path of the journey. Surge rapped the table with his knuckles.

"Got it." He said, the Grass Master next to him nodding.

"I don't get it." Bugsy said, opening his unwelcome mouth. "I thought Falkner was Mr. Untouchable – at least, no rebel's ever been able to take him down."

"And Kiyo was the greatest martial artist on the continent by a long shot." Erika announced. "What new weapon have the Rebels acquired to so easily kill some of our better trainers?"

Lorelei had no answer for her, and Will could tell that, for a change, the Ice Queen was telling the truth. There was a tension in the room, and even May looked concerned. At length, the Champion pushed himself forward, slamming his elbows on the oak table.

"I know." He said with that broad, toothy grin of his. He slapped an envelope on the table – Will recognised it as the one Team Rocket had delivered to him.

After he stayed quiet, May opened her mouth to prod him on. "Well, what?"

"Gary Oak."

A low muttering spread across the meeting hall, and Karen looked delighted. They all remembered the previous Champion from before the first wars, not to mention the cataclysmic championship match between he and the current leader.

"Gary Oak." Ash repeated. "The only man who can match me. He's here. He's back in Kanto – to kill me."

Will shared a glance with May, but the Great Kanto Trainer resumed his speech. Pikachu, sensing his masters excitement, bounded onto the table, looking sporting for the first time in a long while.

"He doesn't know the match has already begun. Far-Leaper was my opening pokémon. But unlike Falkner, or anyone else here, Gary has no titles – I took them from him." May shot Will another look, asking with her eyes if Will was again the source of the Champion's eloquence, but the Thought-Poet could only shrug. This was all Ash.

"My Gary Oak, my other half!" He cried, tossing something small down the room, where it bounced and landed in the empty chair at the foot of the table. It was half a pokéball. Pikachu cheered. "Gary Oak, come to take on the world!"

-- --

The next morning, after dumping the car and Brock and Misty's cloaks, the team headed into the dense forests that separated Celadon and Saffron. It was hard to see, slipping between the patches of sunlight and darkness produced by the chequered canopy. It was hard going, and the thick trees and shrubs kept in moisture and turned the air gluggy with humidity. Wiping the sweat from his brow, Gary stopped suddenly.

"Hey! What gives?" Cried Snap, who was behind him. Misty turned around to see what was happening.

"Alright, screw this. Let me in front." Said Gary, pushing past the orange-haired lady in front of him. His AK-47 and sword, now comfortably on his person, brushed against her.

She gave him concerned look, Eevee by her feet doing likewise. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's _wrong_, I'm just going to speed this up." He cried back, pushing by Melissa up to Brock's side.

Pewter's old Gym-Leader looked at him. "If you think you can find a path through this jungle better than I can, please go ahead." He said hotly.

"No need to _find_ a path." Gary said, unclipping a pokéball from his waist. "Just_ make_ one."

The ball split open to reveal a large, towering beast with grey spikes jutting from its stony hide – it looked like a bigger, meaner and sharper version of his Nidoqueen. It was, of course, his Nidoking. The giant creature roared when Gary ordered it forward, and he slashed away at the trees with his sharp claws. As he advanced, it stomped flat thick tree-roots, leaving a much less challenging path for the Resistance fighters.

Gary looked cocky, crossing his arms over his chest. "As they say, you've gotta make your own way in life, hey?"

Brock grumbled, but as they began filing past, Misty put her hand on Gary's shoulder.

"Thanks Gary." She said with a smile. Gary was disarmed and could only nod in return, taking his original place in line.

The going proved significantly easier with Nidoking tearing the jungle apart having a merry old time. After he literally tore a tree from its roots and tossed it aside, Melissa started to voice her concerns.

"Shouldn't we be worried about shredding up this garden?" She asked, watching Eevee jump over the thrown log.

Gary's eyebrow rose. "Garden? This is a jungle."

However, the famed 'Stone Baron' was putting thought into Melissa's advice. "Actually, this whole area is cultivated by the Celadon Rangers." He informed Gary.

The Pallet Trainer looked closer, and noticed that many of the trees and plants were foreign and not natural in the local climate. "Hey, you're right…"

"Is it really a problem?" Said Misty, impatient at the hold-up. "Would she really-"

Before she could finish, a mass of vines launched out from the forest around them, instantly wrapping up all the members around their limbs. Eevee squeaked as he was lifted into the air along with the other trainers. Nidoking roared as his arms were bound.

"I guess she would!" Snap cracked with irritation, unable to reach his gun.

Emerging from the jungle undergrowth was a small legion of Tangela. Gary called out to his pokémon. "Nidoking, Magnitude!"

The stone lizard lifted his giant foot and slammed it hard against the ground, sending shockwaves through the earth. The bush-like Tangela lost their footing and loosened their grip enough for Melissa and Misty to break a hand free each.

"Go Starmie!"

"Go Sneasel!"

The two pokémon cut through the green vines with ease, letting the Resistance fighters drop to the ground. The grass pokémon cringed back in pain. As the humans went for their weapons, the trees began to move and advance towards them.

"Aren't they rock-type?" Gary said, eyeing the Sudowoodo and grabbing Blastoise as well as Arcanine.

Before a full melee could break out, several figures rose out of the leafy floor. They were dressed in green, their cloaks layered with leaves that made them invisible in the forest. One of them extended their hands.

"Wait, wait!" he cried. "There was a mistake!"

Gary exchanged looks with Misty, but Brock indicated for everyone to relax. The leading camouflaged man looked relieved.

"Are you Brock of Pewter City?" He asked the vested man. "Otherwise known as Everlasting, otherwise known as-"

"That's me, yep." Brock said, unwilling to sit through a list of epithets.

"We're from the Celadon Rangers – We've been sent to guide you." The man said, indicating the way. "Please follow us and…" He looked accusingly at Gary. "Try not to destroy our garden."

Too surprised to grumble, Gary withdrew his Nidoking and glanced at the others. "Celadon Rangers? Is that okay?"

"It's fine, it's fine." Brock insisted, waving Gary down. He went after the green men. "Let's just go."

Gary looked down at Eevee, who looked up with his big eyes and shrugged. Soon the Resistance team was lined up behind their League guides. The Rangers led them down a much easier path, and before they knew it they hit Celadon City.

Calling it a 'city' was misrepresentative – it was as if there was once a city here, long ago, that had been since overgrown by vines and weeds. Decorating these blankets of leaves like flowers were the citizens of this green-choked town. They were sparsely dressed, and both male and female grew their hair long. Nobody seemed to be doing any work, merely loitering wherever they could find a seat.

Standing out against this laxity was a woman. She was stiff and tall, dressed in dark colours against the flowery washes around her. Her face was tense and piercing, and her pitch hair blew in a breeze no one could feel. She set her eyes on Brock's group as soon as they appeared from the jungle.

"I have been waiting for you." She said in a haunting tone, levitating towards them half a foot off the ground. No one seemed to find this odd, Gary noticed while he and Eevee stared. The Rangers made themselves scarce.

"Yes yes, you're psychic, we know." Murmured Brock. "It's been a long trip, let's can the drama."

Misty leaned over to explain who the lady was, but Gary suddenly recognised her.

"That's Sabrina of Saffron, right?" He beat her to the punch, astonished. The memory of this woman and her horrifying Gym was cut into his mind harshly. He cringed as she turned her slicing gaze on him.

"I see you have brought someone of note with you." She said, coming up where she could look down on him. It was all Gary could do to smirk back. "This man's destiny is… interesting."

Gary had no idea to what she was referring and frankly didn't care to know. "Looks like we recognise each other, hey?"

His cockiness had no affect on her, and she turned mechanically to look at Misty. "We shall have you two report in at once."

Misty and Gary growled at her words. "We don't 'report in' to you, thank you very much." The Cerulean trainer said angrily.

Sabrina didn't seem to care, as she was already leading them through the streets. Celadon didn't change as they went deeper – the buildings remained low and equally woven in greenery. Drifters floated around aimlessly, taking food from small vegetable gardens and fruit trees. None of these plants seemed to belong to anyone – people just took what they desired from anywhere.

"Wasn't this place once shopping central?" Snap surprised everyone by asking. He was casting a mocking eye over the grubby hippies hovering around. They seemed fearful of he and Gary openly carrying weapons.

Sabrina answered without looking back. "Correct. That was the famed department store over there." Even though she didn't point, everyone knew where to look.

Without looking closely, one couldn't have told the large ruin from the rest of Celadon. The famous multi-storey building had been reduced to nothing more than a garble of concrete slabs chained with vines. A group of locals were on top of it, beating homemade bongos and dancing a strange stepping dance.

They passed by without saying a word.

It became clear that Sabrina was leading them to the hub of Resistance activity as people who clearly weren't locals started to dot the surroundings. They dressed differently; looked tougher and scarred. Some even carried weapons. They never intermingled with the locals.

"See Brock, women never get me lost." Misty said, causing her old friend to roll his eyes – well, it was assumed that they were rolled.

Gary had his eyes on a small crowd of Celadon hippies sitting in a circle, smoking something that smelled odd. He frowned.

"All this gardening, and they still can't get rid of the weed." He quipped, causing Brock and Snap to laugh. Melissa didn't look pleased.

"Considering the times, can you blame them?" She rebuked, though Gary felt none of it. The men in the expedition had their attention snagged by a woman who decided she didn't need a shirt. They almost bumped into the girls when they stopped.

"We're here, sir." Melissa announced, drawing back Gary and Snap's attention, though Brock kept an eye on the shirtless woman.

They found themselves in a cordoned off area roofed with camouflage netting. It was supplied with small tables and chairs where many people were busy making plans and taking orders. There were attentive guards all around.

In front of them was a short man with his dark hair standing sharply upward like a crown. He was dressed in an ornate military dress, with a long dark cape slung spectacularly from his shoulders. Gary blinked. With red hair, this man would be the spitting image of Lance, the League Champion before him.

The man turned to them from the maps he was looking over and Gary realised with shock that it _was_ Lance. The Dragon Master looked at them sharply before addressing Brock, his voice with the same gravely texture.

"I see you've come back three people heavier than when you left."

Brock peeled his eyes from their target and scratched his head casually. "Well, we need the men, don't we?"

Lance looked displeased with this reply, but said nothing more, turning to Misty.

"Misty, were you able to convince anyone to desert the League?" He asked, interesting Gary. He hadn't known Misty was doing anything on the inside.

The water trainer shook her head sadly. "I thought I was making progress with Falkner, but it turns out that he was just trying to find out what I was up to." She pointed out Gary. "Fortunately, Gary was there to… _assist_ me out of a difficult situation."

The pompously dressed Resistance Leader examined Gary carefully, taking in his smarmy appearance, thin physique, and the Eevee wagging its tail at his feet. He wasn't impressed.

"Gary, is it? So you want to join the Resistance?"

Offended, Gary rubbed his jaw hard. "Hey, c'mon, surely you remember me? I won a championship match against you!"

Recognition hit Lance hard, and open disapproval turned to barely-held dislike. "Ah, of course. Oak's grandson."

The grandson in question took a bow. Lance looked to Misty while Sabrina stood silently by. "And why have you brought him here?"

Being questioned on it surprised the travellers. "Because he's a great trainer!" Melissa answered. She was struck with her superior's glare. "Uh, sir."

Misty came up beside Gary and started selling him like a horse. "Look at him! He's great!" She shouted, grabbing him by the shoulders. "Look at the fighter's spirit in his eye! The iron will!" The three Resistance Leaders did not look taken. "Whatsmore, he could end this war!"

Her last statement caught Lance and Sabrina, but Brock groaned loudly. Misty nodded and went on.

"Gary can fight Ash."

All present were sceptical – everyone knew how powerful the League Champion was. Lance snarled. "Why _him_?"

"I was born to fight Ash." Gary stated as he grabbed his necklace, with such force that no one questioned him.

"Ash is bored." Misty explained. Brock was getting edgy at all this use of the 'A-word'. "That's why things have gotten to this point – he doesn't feel challenged." She patted Gary's shoulders, which she hadn't released. "But Gary here can challenge him."

Gary smirked. "I can do more than challenge him."

"Right, right." Misty appeased. "These two have battled each other back and forth since they were kids. With Ash focussed on a new goal – beating Gary – the League can fall into better hands. Best of all, there's almost no bloodshed!"

But her pitch failed. Lance's eyes were bland and Sabrina shook her head.

"Ketchum, you have ulterior motives and personal concerns that cloud your thinking." The psychic said – Gary thought he could detect a trace of sadness in her voice.

Lance crossed his arms over his chest. "You certainly do, Misty 'Sea of Blood' Ketchum – and I'll be damned if I let the final battle hinge on this _boy_." Gary made a face at him.

In desperation, Misty turned to Brock, who couldn't look her in the eye. The redhead's expression fell.

"I'm sorry Misty." He said regretfully. "You've got to be realistic about this."

Misty grit her teeth, trying to think of something to say, but seeing her idea shot down so swiftly left her with little to argue. Lance gave her a moment to stew before taking charge again.

"So," he began, turning a distrustful eye to the Pallet trainer. "If we're done with that, perhaps you could crawl off back wherever you ran away to?"

Prepared for this sort of surliness, Gary scooped up his Eevee and pet him. "Well, you see, I want to stick around." He began, totally unintimidated by the Dragon Trainer. "If you have a problem with that, I guess we'll have to have an epic battle tearing up all of Celadon."

Bristling at the challenge, Lance threw back his arms, sending his cape billowing. A hand hovered over his pokéballs, barely held back by the voice in his head telling him the cost out-weighed the benefit. He glared at Gary, who smirked boldly at him, and his rage deepened.

The others watching were frightened. Melissa and Misty exchanged a look, the later gripping her hammer, while Sabrina tensed her hands, ready to intervene if necessary. It was no joke – if these two got in a fight the collateral damage would be huge.

Brock broke the spell by clapping a hand on Gary's shoulder. He didn't like the contact.

"Let's not be like that, Lance." Brock said, vouching for the young Oak. "Even if Misty's got her head in the clouds, Gary is the sort of ally we want to have."

The Resistance Leader looked ready to lash out, but all at once mastered himself and slipped into a more relaxed stance.

"Fine." Cape trailing behind, Lance pushed through the crowd outside. "But try and keep up, Oak."

They followed and watched as imperially dressed trainer strode into the crowd, glanced around for someone, then turn back to his comrades.

"We're in the final stages of our penultimate attack on the League. The 'Princess' here was meant to make a last-ditch attempt to convince any League Gym-Leaders to default." He explained rapid fire, crossing his arms, and looking fairly cross himself. "That's fallen on its arse, so it would be full steam ahead…"

"But?" Asked Gary, delighting when he saw Lance furious at the interruption.

"_But_ our shipment of weapons hasn't turned up yet."

As he was talking, a pair of hippies rolled up to them, a strange-looking Ivysaur at their feet. The high-ups ignored them while Melissa slipped in between to keep the hippies out.

"Shove off, Resistance business." She ordered, fixing the red-haired woman in particular with a hard look. The hippy smiled condescendingly.

"Oh, relax dear." She said, waving her hand flippantly. Her friend, who was wearing purple glasses and a rainbow beret, grinned.

He twirled his blue hair. "We're here with good news!"

Gary continued his conversation with the Resistance Leader. "Where do you guys get guns around here?"

"Same place the League does." He said with a shrug. "Team Rocket."

Taking this as some sort of cue, the hippies and their pokémon pushed passed Melissa.

"Hey!" She cried while they started some sort of chant.

"Don't looked troubled, we're already here!" The woman announced, throwing her hand in the air.

Her partner rubbed his chin in a more manly fashion than was appropriate on him. "And on the double we brought the gear!"

Gary, Melissa and Snap looked confused, but the others present all rolled their heads and groaned.

"To protect ourselves from market inflation!"

"To divide the peoples of every nation!"

"To espouse the truth that greed is love!"

"To extend our reach to the moon above!"

Misty, Brock and Lance looked bored as the female hippy threw off her Hessian clothes to reveal a white Team Rocket uniform. "Jesse!"

Likewise the male discarded his rainbow-stained long shirt. "James!"

"Team Rocket grows its financial might!"

"Surrender now or prepare to fight!"

"Perrrrsian, that's right!" The Ivysaur surprised everyone by crying, and then tore off its flowery bulb and shook the green paint from its fur. Brock was shocked.

"That's Meowth! I mean, Persian!" He said, stumbling back.

The members of Team Rocket chuckled that another of their famous disguises succeeded so convincingly. Lance looked impatient.

"You're late!" He barked. The trio merely shrugged.

"Hey, it's a seller's market." Persian said, stretching. "Now, dya want da goods or did we come all dis way for noffin'?"

Lance grumbled and followed as the three criminals. Brock, Misty, and to some extent Gary were all more used to their bizarre tendencies, and took it in stride. Snap opted to come along out of curiosity. They were led to a large cleared space behind an old pokémon centre.

Sabrina was confused, which was a rare change. "Where are the armaments?" She asked, unable to detect objects without a mind. Jesse tapped her nose.

"Right here, floaty!" She cried as she and her partners pulled on a dirt-covered blanket. They strained, pulling back a huge covering, revealing a huge pit filled with crates.

Misty should have seen this coming. "A hole?" She sighed, rubbing her forehead. Lance snapped his fingers at Melissa to go find some Resistance pokémon who knew Vine Whip.

Team Rocket beamed. "That's a whole lot of hole!" said James, looking into it.

Persian clapped his paws. "But we don't dig pits for pittance!" He quipped. "You'll have to _burrow_ into your pockets to pay a small surcharge!"

"Don't you guys do anything else besides dig holes?" Misty demanded, frustrated with their lack of originality.

Jesse was offended. "I'll have you know we dig _damn fine_ holes." She argued, jabbing her finger at the woman. "You of all people should know that!"

"Now, Jesse," James comforted, pulling her back by the shoulder. "A grown twerp is still a twerp."

"Ya can't expect too much of 'em!" Persian finished. Jesse sighed away most of her anger, but still pouted.

Brock took all this in good humour and laughed. "You guys never change."

"Oh, we change!" James declared, holding up several stacks of money. "That is, we have penalty of spare change nowadays!"

While he giggled over his awful puns, Sabrina telekinetically lifted a crate up to their level. Gary watched as she set it on the ground and tore off the top with her mind. He came up and looked inside with her.

It was filled with guns – nothing especially elaborate or top-shelf, but they fired bullets well enough. Gary picked up a black semi-automatic.

"You think this is enough to take on the League?" He asked of Lance honestly. The Dragon Master came up and inspected the merchandise.

"The League can hardly afford to equip their own soldiers." He said with bile in his mouth. "The Celadon Rangers use bows and arrows, for Ho-oh's sake!"

Gary dropped the pistol back in the crate and looked over to where Sabrina raised another. "If Kanto's so dirt poor, then how come you can buy all this?"

Lance turned and leaned on his crate, watching the upstart rifle through the next one. "You're full of questions, aren't you?" Lance noticed Melissa return with a small party of trainers, a smorgasbord of grass-types at their feet. "Even though they'd never get off their arses to help us, we get financial support from the outside. Particularly from the Johto and Hoenn governments."

Gary didn't find what he was looking for in the next crate either. "I guess no one likes a dictatorship at their doorstep." He stood up and watched Melissa co-ordinate the pokémon retrieving the crates. "But all these friends and they can't send you hair-dye?"

Making a face, Lance made to leave, but found himself caught in a sudden pincer movement between Jesse and James.

"Now now, Lancey!" James crooned, taking the shorter man by the shoulders. "You mustn't undervalue your looks, especially in times of war!"

"Take it from a red-head (and a gorgeous one, at that)," Jesse said, holding up a bottle of red hair dye she conjured up somehow. "If you have to go out, you want to go out looking your best!"

The previous Elite Champion tried to protest, but James held him tighter. "And when it comes time to choose the leader for the liberated free world, will they choose the dull one with boring black hair?"

"Or the ravishing redhead?" Jesse cried, posing and confusing herself with the customer a little.

Sneering, Lance opened his mouth. "Misty's red, and she's ugly as a Snubull's tail-end." He complained.

The redhead in question, who had been helping a Gloom ease a crate to the ground, heard. She was pretty angry.

"What was that?" She roared, not shifting Lance's indifference an inch.

Gary chuckled at these antics, stepping around a Bayleef and shifting through another crate. This time he found what he wanted – clips for his AK-47. Loading one into the rifle over his shoulder, he started to stack up bundles for him to grab.

He was noticed, though, and James slipped up to him, rubbing his hands greedily.

"I'm afraid those bullets aren't free, my dirty friend." He said with a salesman's smile. Gary sighed and didn't even bother discussing price. He dug into his pocket and pulled out a wallet.

"Do you take credit cards?" Gary asked, whipping one of his many out. James' eyes widened in delight.

"Plastic?" He cried, hand over his mouth. He hadn't seen a card in Kanto in some time, but cash straight in the bank was better than cash that had to be carted there. "We certainly do!" The blue-haired Rocket turned to cry out to his feline fellow. "Persian! Persian, we need the machine! We need this on a card!"

-

-

**Authors Notes**

That was a lame way to finish off this chapter, but again I had to split it up from size (this chapter was twelve thousand words!). I'll post the second half up in a day or two.


	8. Lost in the Garden 2

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Pokémon. If I did, I'd be rich. But I don't, and I'm not, so please don't sue me Nintendo.

-

**Grasping the Moon**

Chapter 8 – Lost in the Garden

Part 2

As the process of unloading the crates became self-automated, and after Lance had handed over the briefcases of money, the Resistance Leaders decided to retire and discuss the finer points of their strategy. This time, Lance was adamant that Gary should be excluded. The Pallet trainer pressed, mainly to spite that jerk Lance, but Misty talked him out of it. Leaving them inside a dark building, he, Melissa and Eevee looked around for things to do.

"I'm going shopping." Decided Melissa, spying Team Rocket with small stalls strung from their necks selling their wares to Resistance fighters and Celadon locals. "Catch ya around."

Gary waved as she went off, and then looked down to his pokémon for ideas. Eevee made a 'don't look at me' face.

Sighing, the Pallet trainer cast an eye around at the relaxing soldiers and noticed Snap playing card with a Resistance fighter who might have been a Celadon native.

The unidentified fighter saw Gary looking and recognised him. He stood and jogged over, giving Gary a second to figure out who he could be. He was tall and had a slight gut. His dark hair was hung limply over a red headband in a fashion that looked familiar. Gary looked at the soldier's baby-ish face as he approached.

"Gary? Gary Oak?" He said, with a gentle, humble voice. Something about it kicked Gary's memory into action.

"Tracey?" Gary uttered in surprise, shaking his old friend's hand. Tracey Sketchit smiled down at Eevee.

"Hey, do I know you?" He asked the pokémon, scratching it behind the ears. The dog squealed in delight. "Related to your Umbreon?" The pokémon watcher asked Gary.

The Pallet trainer didn't want to explain just yet. "Sorta." Tracey grabbed him by the shoulder and dragged him over to where Snap was shuffling cards on a crate and smoking.

"Come on, play with us!"

"You two know each other?" Asked Snap apathetically. Gary noticed he kept his rifle close at hand.

"Yeah, he used to work for my grandfather, Professor Oak." The grandson said, sitting on a rock facing the hippies on the other side of the street, who were regarding the Resistance troops warily.

Tracey laughed nervously. "Yeah, Professor Oak…" he said. Gary didn't notice the way Tracey glanced to the side, but Eevee did and suspected that he was hiding something.

"Game's Blackjack." Snap said, dealing cards. Eevee took position around the crate, hoping to be dealt in. Snap didn't oblige the dog.

Gary looked down on his cards only half-interested, and tossed money into the pot. "I thought you'd have bailed for the Orange Islands." He figured Tracey as a pacifist as well.

Tracey matched the bet. "Well, it sure crossed my mind, but since I knew, y'know, Ash and everyone, I figured I was personally involved."

Considering Gary wouldn't be here at all if it weren't Ash ruling the nation, he couldn't argue with that reasoning. "Fair enough. What's been up? Still drawing?"

They chattered a while, catching up – Gary leaving out the less conversational stories on his part. Eevee piped up to add his opinions, and occasionally to ask to be dealt in, but he was always ignored. After a while, they began to feel some pressure to involve Snap, who was quiet save for the gambling.

"So, 'Snap'." said Gary, flattening some notes on the crate. "What, were your parents drunk?"

The sniper grunted. "My name's Todd." He explained shortly. "Snap's my last name."

"Still a stupid name." Gary commented, smirking. Snap was dead silent.

Sensing that this wasn't endearing the old photographer to them, Tracey turned the direction of the conversation.

"Did I see you coming in with Misty?" Tracey asked, glancing back at the building where Command was discussing matters.

Gary was surprised to learn Tracey had been watching them without his noticing. Perhaps a Pokémon Watcher learnt a few tricks about observing without being observed. "Uh, yeah."

Tracey smiled dryly at him. "Not a girl it's wise to work your magic on." He advised. Gary glared.

"Shut up, it's not like that." He said, looking back at his cards.

Amused, Tracey looked back to the impromptu command base. "I wonder what they're talking about?"

-- --

"That's so hypocritical!" Misty declared, slamming the table. Maps and the figurines marking them went flying. Brock came up to grab her by the shoulders and calm her down but she beat him aside.

Lance sneered. "And how's that?"

"This is exactly the same as my plan!" She screamed. "Except _you're_ the one fighting Ash!"

Brock flinched at the name, and Lance drove his palm onto the table. "No it's not. _Your_ plan was a delusional _farce_ formulated to spare your dear husband the death he so rightly deserves." Lance, the Legend-Stalker, jabbed his thumb into his chest. "_My_ plan is to crush him thoroughly while the rest of the League army is distracted."

"You moron!" Misty cried back, blood pounding in her face as she leant over the table. "That's basically my plan!"

Lance shoved his enraged face closer to hers. "No it's not! Your damned husband is going to sit at the back like the 'trainer' and have all his 'pokémon' – some of the best Gym Leaders in the world – fight us." He hit the table again for emphasis. "That's why Sabrina and I are getting reinforcements from Johto and attacking from behind!"

Her fist shaking, impatient to lash out, Misty snarled down in the Dragon Master's face. "And Magikarp can fly! You're just gunning for Champion again!" She accused, knowing that Ash had left instated a law providing anyone to defeat him in a straight pokémon battle would get his title.

Seeing that they were about to come to blows, Sabrina stepped into their peripheral vision.

"Enough." She said. Seeing her speak decisively was enough to calm the pair down, and they pulled themselves upright. The psychic invisibly relaxed – they didn't know that if they had even attempted to strike out, she would have frozen their bodies solid.

Brock came up by Misty's side. "For what it's worth, Misty, I think it's a dumb plan too."

Misty couldn't help but feel vindicated, even though Brock had previously shot down _her_ plan too. It was also relieving to be out of Lance's personal space again – there was something disturbingly familiar about it. She crossed her arms and raised her chin triumphantly at Lance.

Legend-Stalker grew angrier at this action, and glared at Brock.

"Then I suppose you have a better plan?" He said with disdain, flicking his cape.

"Actually," Brock said, scratching his nose. "I do. I think you're all going about this the wrong way – focusing on fighting Ash in a pokémon battle."

Sabrina weighed the Stone-Baron's words carefully. "Do you mean to fight him directly, hand-to-hand?"

Brock shook his head and hands. "No no, you're all trying to match him at his strengths! We've got to get him in a way he can't possibly defend against."

Misty couldn't catch what he meant, but Lance narrowed his eyes. "You mean the sniper."

Everyone was stunned. Sabrina silently considered the option, Lance growled with open aggression, while Misty gaped at Brock in dumb shock. Did he just suggest killing Ash straight?

"That… that is…" Lance spat, unable to accurately express his disgust in words, but his tone was doing well enough. "How dare you desecrate the memory of the Indigo League with that… _suggestion_?"

Brock couldn't understand his resistance. "What? It'll work, right?"

Stabbing his gloved finger into Brock's sternum, Lance elaborated. "We're not here to kill the Champion. We're here to restore the League. If we don't do this the Indigo way, then we've betrayed everything."

"But A – the Champion will win 'the League way'!" Brock protested. "That's how he became Champion in the first place!"

The other leader was stubborn, however, and Brock looked across at Misty, who was still in silent shock. He sighed, irritated at his lack of support, before looking to Sabrina, who was still considering the plans.

"Looks like you've got the deciding vote." He said in defeat. "We've all got a plan we want, you pick the one you think is a winner."

A long moment passed as Sabrina regarded each of those present carefully. They thought it probable that she was looking into their minds, investigating their hidden designs, motivations and whatever else she wanted to know. At length she cocked her head slightly, signalling a decision.

"I feel it is unwise to rest our plans on a single figure, particularly ones not directly loyal to the Resistance." She advised, her eyes going to the Dragon Master. "I feel that Legend-Stalker has the plan that employs our strengths to greatest effect with minimum dependence on outsider unreliability."

Misty and Brock looked pained at her words, but Lance puffed up proudly.

"Excellent." He announced, wrapping himself in his cape in kingly fashion. "We'll begin preparations to march on Vermillion in three days time."

Without further words, he turned to leave the room in triumph, which meant that the meeting was over. The others followed him out, though not a single person among them intended to stick with the stated plan.

-- --

Having spent the remainder of the evening discussing candidates to replace Falkner as Viridian Gym-Leader and other boring administrative matters, Blaine was quite happy to leave the dimly lit hall. Sighing contentedly, he stretched his back and muttered about growing old.

Blaine nodded at the scarfed Psychic Master, Will, who walked out of the hall, returned the nod and teleported away. Turned around to wait for his party, Blaine saw Janine poked her head out, looking around for someone with uncharacteristic vulnerability. She didn't see them and strolled out in relief.

She only just came up beside Blaine as Lorelei strode swiftly through them and down the hall. The two lackeys hurried up by her side. The Fire Master glanced back to see the others leaving the meeting, the League Champion and his Pikachu chatting amiably with Erika.

"Question:" Blaine asked, once he was confidently out of earshot. "Why'd we not tell him about his wife?"

"Ketchum is emotional and weak." The Ice Queen answered without looking back. She was in a hurry to get back to their hunt. "He would have done something unadvisable."

"But what about the Elite First and the sorceress?" Janine asked in a subdued tone, still feeling out of her depth with the other two. "Surely they knew that she was with the rebels?"

Lorelei grimaced. "The witch and the monster can't be accurately predicted. Who knows what their intentions are?" The Elite Fourth halted suddenly at a T-junction. Left would take them down to the Fearows that would carry them back to their camp. "Janine, you have a special assignment."

The ninja stood up at attention. "Yes ma'am?"

Lorelei looked down her half-oval spectacles into the girl's face. "You go to Saffron and kill all the witnesses. If word gets to the Champion that his dear wife was there and we failed to mention it, there will be problems. Blaine and I shall head for Celadon."

Janine nodded, but stopped when she heard the last sentence. "But what about Vermillion? Couldn't they have gone there?"

Scoffing, Lorelei spun on her high-heels. "Celadon is a refuge of rebel sympathisers and useless characters – of course they went there."

His hands behind his back and biting his lip, Blaine raised a query. "Question: what is our course of action when we get there?"

She looked at her comrade like he was stupid. "We'll do what should be done to all trash – by doing what you do best, 'Kindler'." There was no smile on her chilled features, but the delight welled up inside Blaine. "We burn it up."

-- --

"Are you trying to burn us to death?!" Gary screamed, stomping out Snap's cigarette. "Don't throw those around!"

The day had worn on, and the blue sky was growing dim. Melissa was done with shopping and sat in on the game, which had changed to poker, unwilling to bet what little she had. The sniper smirked and shuffled the cards. "You're just angry because we're cleaning you out."

Gary glowered. "You idiot, look at this place!" He waved his hands over the vine-drenched streets of Celadon. "This whole town is a damn fire trap!"

Blowing aside Oak's rebuke with a chuckle, Snap dealt the hand and took out another cigarette. Tracey looked nervous, partially at all the shouting, and partially that a trio he had once counted as natural enemies had joined in their game of poker to gamble away their hard-earned cash.

"Oooo, Jesse! I got a lot of clubs!"

"I'll club you, dimwit!" She replied, striking her blue-haired companion over the head as he tried to show her. "Now shut up!" On the other side of him, Persian hummed and dropped his cards to the table.

"I fold and I'm out." The cat said, stretching. "I'm gunna roll in the grass a bit. See you two."

His partners waved and looked back to their cards. Eevee thought the other pokémon was onto something so went to join in. There was a brief period of poker-silence, when Jesse sighed suddenly, leaning back and hiding her cards on stomach.

The others looked at her expectantly. "We had a good haul today, didn't we James?" She said happily, looking at the empty stalls and thinking of the suitcases of money they had stashed away.

James beamed. "Sure did, Jess!" His smile faded when he recognised the sideways look Jesse was giving him.

"I think it's worth a little congratulations kiss," she said temptingly, completely unmindful of the morbidly curious audience. James broke out in a cold sweat.

"Ah, um, Jessica! We're in company!" He said, desperately trying to sound admonishing.

The red-haired girl looked positively shameless, leaning in close with a devilish look in her eyes. James squealed in fear.

Suddenly he slammed his cards on the table. "I fold!" He cried, and then ran off, hands in the air. Jesse watched him run with a naughty smile on her face, not put off in the least. She looked down at her cards and noted she had a queen.

The others watched these events quietly, unable to formulate a suitable comment. Tracey coughed lightly.

"So, you two are a couple now?" He asked hesitantly.

Jesse smiled broadly. "Oh yes, for a while now." She explained running her hand through her hair happily. "Of all the men I've known, he's the one who's always been beside me, through thick and thin."

Snap lit up his cigarette. "Is that right?"

A suddenly conspiratorial look came to the Rocket's face as she leant in and whispered to those at the table. "And on top of that, he's set to inherit kajillions of dollars from his parents." She rubbed her hands together, the thought of even _more_ future riches exciting her. "It's like the perfect match!"

"But…" Melissa began, but was unsure whether to continue.

"He's gay." Snap finished, displaying his disdain for tact.

Jesse suddenly became angry, slamming the crate over which they played the game, causing the pot to shake. "He is not! He's as straight a man as a man can be!" She roared. Nobody was convinced.

"He's picking flowers." Gary noted, watching the Rocket in question pick pansies from the grass around where Persian and Eevee were playing. James had his foot raised in girlish fashion. Jesse went red.

"Okay, so he's a little effeminate. So what?" She huffed, crossing her arms. She froze as James pirouetted passed them, singing in falsetto into an invisible mike. Except for James, it wasn't falsetto.

"I'm a Rocket maaan – Rocket maaaaaan! I'm going to fly away-hey-heeeyy…"

As he spun by, the other poker players stared at Jesse, who was quaking.

"I'll have you know," she said, measuring her tone with amazing control. "That Elton John is a very talented artist…"

They kept staring and after a moment Jesse couldn't take it anymore. She threw down her cards and shot to her feet.

"I don't have to take this!" She screamed. "James! James, let's cuddle!"

Grabbing her partner and dragging him away kicking and screaming, the others couldn't bring themselves to say anything. Persian came up, watching his partners disappear around the back of a building, and sighed.

Tracey looked down at the pokémon and opened his mouth, but no words came out. Persian knew what he was going to say.

"Listen, dat relationship is something dis cat ain't curious about." He said. Then Eevee leapt on his back, causing them to go tumbling. "Whoa, jeez! I dunno if I should be playing wid a dog!"

As the two pokémon play-wrestled away from the crate, Gary looked at his two partners. Tracey shrugged, and Snap pulled the cigarette from his mouth.

"Are we going to play poker?" He asked roughly.

They were about to get back into it, Gary unconcerned that he was losing so bad (he had more money than he could lose in a million poker games), when he was tapped on the shoulder. He looked up to see no one there, and then groaned and looked over the other side, where Misty was smirking down at him.

"Having fun?" He asked.

"Same to you." She replied before hoisting him to his feet. Melissa observed them silently. "Come on, Erika wants to see you."

Letting his cards fall to the table, he looked stunned. Snap and Tracey didn't appear so. "Erika? Like, the Celadon Gym-Leader Erika?"

"Yep, she just got here from Indigo just now." Misty responded, pulling Gary away in a fashion that made Tracey smirk and shake his head. Melissa watched them with a concerned look on her face. "She heard you were around, so she asked after you specifically."

Gary let himself be carried along, but asked his question. "So, is she with the Rebellion too?"

Misty sucked in her lip. "Well, no. She's still in the League, but she's cool. I'll let her explain."

She opened the door to the private meeting room for the Resistance leadership and dragged the Pallet trainer inside. Ignoring the dusty smell, Gary looked around the room and saw the expected – Lance in all his arrogant glory, Sabrina floating near Brock, who was chatting with a small Japanese girl in a green kimono.

The girl, presumably Erika, turned as they entered.

"So, you're Gary Oak?" she asked, able to recognise him from his sixteen-year old visage when he was League Champion. "Why are all of Destiny's favoured handsome as gods?"

This opening flattery shocked Gary for a moment, but he soon smirked wide. "Hey hey, you coming on to me? That why you're dressed up so nice?"

Erika rolled her eyes and turned to face him fully. Gary noticed she still wore the red headband from when he challenged this gym when they were younger "I am Erika of Celadon. I just rushed here from the Plateau after an official meeting."

Lance laughed shortly. "You got here fast." He said, pointless venom in his words. Erika glared at him from the side of her eyes.

"I convinced the Champion to lend me his Noctowl for the trip." She explained before returning her attention back on Oak. "He knows you're here. In Kanto, that is."

Gary shrugged. "Took him long enough."

Sighing deeply, the small Japanese woman looked down at the ground. "I don't suppose I could convince you to talk this over with him?"

Laughter. "I don't suppose you could stop the sun and moon spinning?"

Brock, who had been trying to schmooze with the Gym-Leader, suddenly changed his tune. "Look, there's no diplomatic way out of this. He's a monster, and we're taking the whole mess apart."

Erika shook her head condescendingly while Gary cocked his head, interested in witnessing this exchange.

"You're wrong, he's not a monster." She argued. "He used the League to stop the first wars. He united Kanto again." She drew her dainty hand from her sleeve and gestured over the assembled. "_You_ are the ones perpetuating misery and war by dissenting."

Misty glanced around at the Resistance Leader's reactions. Sabrina floated closer to Lance in case he exploded as he tried to tie down his temper. Brock hummed with displeasure. Gary spoke up.

"No one here's going to chicken out." He said. "So, does that mean you're going to fight us?" A smile played on his lips as he set a hand on his rifle, which was itching for a work out.

The Celadon Gym-Leader looked grim. "No, I'm not." She answered. "I don't want any more death at all. I've made sure that Celadon is a place where all sorts of people can live in peace – even if I find their beliefs objectionable."

Gary had wondered why such a high-class lady led a city full of hippies, not to mention why a loyal League Gym-Leader would allow hostile rebels in her city. However, he failed to see how this would abate violence.

"But either we'll beat the League or they'll figure you out." He argued, eyebrow bent. "This isn't exactly a long-term solution, hey?"

Celadon's Leader bowed her head, and suddenly she looked much smaller than she already was. She folded in on herself, causing Gary to pause. "I know, but what else can I do?" Said Erika, so low that it was like a forced whisper.

Nothing came to Gary's lips in response – he could only look shocked at how vulnerable and contrite the powerful Grass Master had become. He was so fascinated by her weakness that he didn't notice Misty get agitated at him staring at the Japanese woman like that. Brock coughed lightly, breaking the spell.

He came up beside Erika, who looked up at him, regaining her composure suddenly. "Well, thank you Erika for coming to speak to us. Unfortunately, we're kinda set on our course of action." A smile split his face and a strange sheen washed over his slit-eyes. "However, if you'd like to speak about this over dinner, I'd love to…"

Everyone in the room – maybe even Sabrina – groaned, and Misty clocked Brock in the side of the head with one of the figurines from the table. Erika, having set her eyes on the legendary 'Gary Oak' and not in the least inclined to accommodate Brock, decided to leave.

She said her farewells, slipping in another caution to join the League before Kanto was burnt to the ground, and disappeared. Gary watched her leave.

"What a weird woman…" He said, causing Misty to cross her arms angrily.

"She's just a coward." Declared Misty before she grabbed Gary by the sleeve. "Come on, I'm sick of business." She dragged him from the room while the others prepared to head their own ways. "I want to get in some cards before it gets dark."

-- --

After adjourning the meeting, Ash launched immediately into training. May had figured it would be the regular routine, and, having nothing else to do, she decided to sit in.

The Champion, however, seemed to be spurred on by something, pushing himself and his pokémon far harder than normal. They jumped and struck and attacked and all that well into twilght, which left May bored stiff. She surprised herself by casually wondering where the psychic Will was – roving eyes aside, he was at least decent conversation.

_Come to think of it, he's not been making any 'attempts' on me recently…_ She thought, wondering what other distraction could have snared the bored bookworm's mind.

May flanked Ash as he strolled through the palace halls, towelling himself off. Pikachu galloped at his feet, more visibly excited than he had been in a long time. Dressed for practise like he was, he looked ridiculous in the middle of the sculptured art and rich carpets of his own palace.

She couldn't help but glance at his sweaty form as he unconsciously showed it off in a dark workout singlet. He was muscular and handsome, but that wasn't what was so fixating about him.

It was because she couldn't_ have _him.

Spying the wedding ring on his finger made her mad enough to clench her gloved fists. _How_ could he resist? May knew she was as fine a woman as could be found – she ruffled her hair cutely as though to prove it to herself. Ash didn't even notice.

_Why isn't he looking?!_ She asked herself angrily. The Great Kanto Trainer had hardly looked her that way since he learnt about this 'Gary Oak' character. May pouted. He hadn't even entertained their flirty to-and-fro!

At any rate, she could hardly seduce him without his paying attention, so the obvious option was to talk, even if it was shop.

"So, are you going to go out and kill this Gary guy?"

May suddenly existed again now that she mentioned battling, pokémon and war, and Ash looked down at her with a smile.

"Nah." Replied Ash, sipping on a bottle of water before tossing it down for Pikachu to share. May wrinkled her nose –

_Eww…_

"Gary's too smart." Ash went on, grabbing the towel around his shoulders with both hands and turning the corner. "He's much smarter than me. If I made a move like that he'd turn it around on me like a flash." Grinning widely, he flicked down the towel and hit Pikachu in the rear. "I'll wait it out here."

Pikachu was angry, turning around to strike back. The water was spilled and started to stain the carpet. None of them cared – maids would clean it up.

As the yellow rat leapt at Ash, the Champion caught him in his arms. May quietly watched Ash cuddle his pokémon. "So, you're going to order everyone else around to get him for you?"

"Yeah!" Ash said through a laugh as Pikachu batted playfully at his face. "Together, we can overcome anything!"

Throwing her eyes, May ignored the platitude and said nothing, plotting how to get what she wanted from Ash before the wife returned tomorrow…

That's when they heard the screams. The three of them turned around hearing the sounds of violence and destruction. May and Ash exchanged a look before rushing to meeting the disturbance.

About three steps later the wall at the other end of the hall exploded. Through the gaping hole a giant pokémon stepped into vision. It was like a cross between a crab and a spider, lumbering forward on four legs, shattering the floorboard with every step. The pokémon's hide was steely and rough, and streaked across its solid, boulder-like face was a X-shaped 'moustache', from which beamed a pair of malice-filled and deeply intelligent eyes. A Metagross.

Behind Ash, May went to tie on her bandanna, and Will teleported in from nowhere, a pair of pokéballs in each hand. Ash indicated for them to stop.

Spying its quarry, the Metagross came to a halt. From behind strode its trainer, a tall man dressed like he frequented casinos and won. He twirled his cloud-white hair casually and took a cocky stance in front of his steel tank.

"Ah, there you are." He said in a carefully apathetic voice, checking his knuckles.

May spoke up before Ash could ask who it was. "That's Steven Stone – on-again-off-again Hoenn champ. We met him as kids."

Scratching his chin, the Champion looked thoughtful. "Hm, can't remember him."

Pikachu jumped to the ground. "Chu, pika pika Pika-pi!" It accused the foreigner, pointing a finger.

Stone put his hand in his pocket. "A lot of people in Hoenn paid me a lot of pretty jewels to take you out." He said, apparently unfussed about three powerful trainers lined against him. "The Petalburg Gym-Leader gave me a particularly handsome diamond."

Starting at the mention of her brother, May tapped her fingers together humbly, drawing a glance from Will. "Max? Did he… mention me?"

The Hoenn assassin looked May up and down, and then smiled smoothly. "I think I would have remembered if he mentioned someone lovely like you."

May deflated. "Oh."

"So, Steven Stone," Ash said, sizing up the well-dressed trainer. "What other names do you have?"

The intruder shook his head. "We don't do this epithet nonsense in Hoenn." He responded, the distaste evident on his face. Ash shrugged.

"Well, I love it. Will here's got a tonne of them." Ash pointed over his shoulder at the spectacled psychic. Will pushed up his glasses. "And May's got some great ones, I think. You know what mine are?"

Looking bored, Stone waved a hand in the air. "I'm sure you're about to inform me." He said, leaning on his still Metagross.

Ash began listing them on his fingers. "Well, there's 'The League Champion', and 'The Great Kanto Trainer', but the one I think is most important here is…" He paused for affect. "… 'The Chosen One'."

Steven was under-whelmed, but noted that it was only at this point that Will put away his pokéballs and May replaced her bandanna in her pouch. While his target's companions relaxed, Stone decided to follow this up. "And what does that mean?"

"Isn't it obvious? I'm chosen." Ash explained, tapping his chest. "It's fate, it's destiny – it's all that." Grinning his famous grin, Ash widened his hands dramatically. "You can be sure I'm going to turn all the world to Ash."

All this monologue did was confirm to Stone that Ketchum was indeed mad and a world-class threat. He straightened up and prepared to issue orders to his patient Metagross. Pikachu laughed at him.

"Don't try it!" The League Champion advised. "Don't even bother, you can't kill me!"

Steven narrowed his eyes. "You shouldn't underestimate…"

"It doesn't matter how _strong_ you are!" Ash cut in, waving his hands wildly. May and Will remained silent, while Pikachu had his arms crossed defiantly. "Who are you? You're just some random who popped in here. You hardly know me. Do you know how many Legendary Pokémon have chummed up to me? Do you know how often I've had the fate of the world in my hands?" Ash laughed dismissively, to Stone's great annoyance. "You can't stop me, destiny won't allow it. Even if you _did_ kill me, I'd just come back like all the other times."

Stone was becoming distinctly uncomfortable with the direction this was going. "You're saying you've come back from the dead?"

Ketchum waved a hand as though it were nothing. "Yeah, heaps of times." Judging from his associates silence, they agreed with the claim.

"You're insane and you've got to die."

"Oh eventually," Ash remarked, sounding like he looked forward to the idea. "But when it happens, it won't be at the hands of a no-name like you."

Being brought up in a very wealthy situation and given his fame, Stone was unused to be addressed as unimportant. He grit his teeth and pointed at the Champion.

"Metagross, Hammer Arm!"

The giant lurched forward, but Ketchum only shook his head. The floorboards beneath Metagross splintered and erupted, a huge red dragon bursting forth, fire streaming from its great snout. Stone stumbled back in shock as the Charizard grabbed Metagross from underneath and threw the ridiculously heavy pokémon bodily into the wall.

Thrown to the ground, Steven Stone looked up with horror as the Charizard drowned his Metagross in fire.

"Pika chu."

Whirling, Steven saw Pikachu right up in his face, electricity streaming from his cheeks. His eyes were stuck in fright on rat's pudgy yellow face.

"He called you something nasty." Ketchum's voice floated in. "But it's not nice to speak that way of the dead."

Pikachu cut loose and Steven screamed.

-- --

Darkness fell eventually. Gary stuck to his crowd all night, though Team Rocket had disappeared somewhere, apparently in a hurry. No one cared, many having been constantly antagonised by those three in the past, and the party spent the time drinking and laughing. They kicked cans, climbed vines and were avoided by the locals, chatting away all thought of the war and blood all around them.

Tearing up the town eventually found them climbing up onto the roof of what once might have been a Pokémon Centre. Ignoring the anti-League abuse sprayed over the crumbling walls between the leaves, Tracey pulled Melissa up the last leg, while Misty refused Brock or Gary's assistance.

As the others laid down on the concrete to stare up into the night sky, Tracey bent over the ledge to look down at Snap.

"Hey, you coming?" He laughed out, smiling harder when Snap simply gave him the finger. "Fine fine, good night."

Snap wondered off, while Tracey staggered, drunk from fun and perhaps a dash too much alcohol to lie down among the others. Their rib-shaking laughter faded down into a pleasant hum in the chest as they looked at the stars. Scratching Eevee behind the ear, Gary mused the full moon shone like the glare on the pupil of God.

It was quiet for a while as everyone took in the sight of thick jungle-garden encircling the city and the cloudless sky. Tracey suddenly opened his mouth.

"Hey, what do you think the moon's made of?"

Melissa chuckled. "My mum used to say cheese."

There were scattered laughs. Gary decided to show off his scientific knowledge.

"Current studies suggest it's made of rock."

"Is that right?" Misty said while Brock gave a little cheer.

Something about the lunar body had snagged Tracey's mind. "You think we'll ever get there?"

Gary shrugged, causing Eevee to shift. "Sure. Eventually someone'll crop up with the brains and the will to pull it off."

Tracey nodded. "I think the moon's made of dreams."

Brock, Misty and Melissa all snorted in laughter at the cheesy suggestion, while Gary glanced across at Tracey critically. "I hope you're talking metaphorically."

It would be just like an artsy guy like Tracey to say something like that, but before he could elaborate on what he meant, Misty spoke up.

"Hey that reminds me of someone I met over Johto-way." She said. "You remember this Brock? There was a Pidgey named Orville."

Stone-Baron seemed to remember. "Hey, yeah! On that island full of fat Pidgeys."

"Yeah, yeah!" Misty sat up to tell the story properly. "So, this island's full of chubby Pidgeys who can't fly – except this one Pidgey."

"Orville." Interjected Brock.

"Orville. He'd been told these stories as a kid about a Pidgey being able to fly to the moon, so he's set on doing it himself."

Brock waved his arms around in description. "He's trained and trained, always trying to get higher -" he was cut off when Misty kicked him.

"Shut up, this is my story." She said, patting down her hair and getting back into the groove. "So, Orville's been training hard. We got there just as he was about to go for it for real, so we stuck around." She said, calming herself down to tell the story properly. "I thought it was really-" she faltered and cut herself off. "Well, anyway, we cheered him on."

Melissa was listening intently. "Did he do it?" She asked, before realising how foolish she sounded.

Misty ignored the question. "So he takes off, and we're watching from a balloon. He goes up – and keeps going. He goes up, up towards the moon." She said, making a rising motion with her hand. Something was happening to her voice. "He's flying up, higher and higher – he's set on it, he's doesn't care about anything else and just… keeps going up."

The mood of the tale had shifted, Misty's voice growing softer and faraway, while the others all leant in to hear, even Brock who knew the tale.

"We followed as best we could. It got cold – icicles were literally growing on his feathers. We're ten thousand feet in the air or more, and we're watching him go. To the moon."

Misty paused a moment, and no one dared speak.

"He got to the top of the atmosphere – right to the edge. After that you can't breathe." She made a sound almost like a whimper and lowered her head. She continued to speak, but she was whispering. "I mean, he got as far as anyone could. That's pretty damned impressive. But, y'know, he didn't actually get there. To the moon."

Everyone remained quiet for a long while before Tracey rolled.

"What's the moon mean to you?" He asked tenderly, so as not to rupture the feeling that had fallen on them like a hug.

Brock answered first. "True love."

Melissa rubbed her eyes. "Happiness, contentment, security, all that."

"I guess…" Misty started, drawing her knees up to her chin. "Childhood innocence."

The Watcher turned his eyes to Gary, who had been watching all of this himself silently. Eevee had grown strangely alert, standing by his hips and looking at everyone piercingly. Gary wondered if this reminded the dog of Bruno and Mount Moon as much as it did him.

"What about you, Gary?" Tracey asked.

Easy answer; to fight forever with Ash in a never-ending duel, the tides of advantage rolling in and out, pressing and holding in an eternal spinning war for nothing and over nowhere. But he couldn't tell them that. "To win. To be the best." He responded in a thick voice.

Nodding, Tracey turned his attention back to the lunar body in question.

"Everyone says it's something different." He said thoughtfully. "At least, there are a few different answers. We keep giving it names. I wonder what it really is – that thing we want."

Again, no one spoke. No one was willing to, as none of them felt quite like they could say anything profound back to Tracey, who was far more philosophical than the rest of them. Gary couldn't take his eyes off the glowing orb above, Eevee curling up around his head.

"The moon, I guess." Said Melissa, shrugging against the concrete.

Finally, Tracey sat up, chuckling.

"Man, I wish I brought my sketchbook." He said in a fresher tone. "Moments like these are why we stay alive."

-

-

**Author's notes:**

I probably should have used 'Aya' instead of 'Janine' – its too similar to 'Jasmine'.

Strolling through the Internet, I happened on an episode guide about that Orville pidgey – it was so appropriate that I had to put it in.

Originally I had the last two sections swapped around, but I think I like this order better.

I had intended for Pikachu to be female, but I think I've unconsciously made him male. Ah, stuff it.

Giving Lance black hair was a decision I made because I always got the impression it was black from the games. Then I discovered that the anime – as animes are wont – gave him garishly red hair. I thought that was lame. Totally lame.

More action next time. Far more.


	9. We All Burn Down 1

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Pokémon. If I did, I'd be rich. But I don't, and I'm not, so please don't sue me Nintendo.

-

**Grasping the Moon**

Chapter 9 – And We All Burn Down 

Part 1

"Is it ready?" Lorelei asked into the dark at level volume rather than a whisper like all the others. The figure slipping through the ranks of League trainers stood out at night with his white coat, but soon enough that wouldn't matter.

"Answer: Merely give the signal." Said Blaine, coming up besides her. Adjusting her glasses, she wasted no time in lifting her hand.

Before she could bring it down and signal the advance, all present felt as sudden flush, then hollow feeling in their guts. Something rustled behind the Ice Queen's ear, and she turned to see a head poking from the black air.

"This looks fun…" The female head said in sultry fashion, licking her lips.

All the trainers, Blaine included, drew back in both shock and horror, recognising Night-Whisper, Karen of the Elite Four. Lorelei didn't look more than irritated. "I would have preferred you arranging your involvement earlier."

"Oh nonsense." The monster replied, revealing the rest of her sickeningly feminine body. "That would ruin all the spontaneity." Karen strode gracefully behind one of the fire trainers, winking at Lorelei while licking the terrified man's ear. "I promise not to get in the way too much."

Tightening her mouth indiscernibly, the Frozen Maiden faced front and raised her hand again. "We have no time for this – do what you want." Karen chuckled as she released her man, who would swear her saliva was burning his ear. Lorelei dropped her hand. "All units advance."

Word spread down the ranks like a wildfire, and soon the wildfire started in earnest.

--- -

Misty was woken by the smell of smoke and before she could even mentally register how hot it suddenly was, she was at the window, blanket wrapped around herself. What she saw horrified her.

Celadon was burning. Fire was everywhere, washing over the city like a flood. Red and yellow flicked and danced in wild delight; the mass of vines and excessive greenery that coated the town provided an ample feast for the ravenous flames. Smoke was everywhere, blotting out the stars and moon in the sky with an inky stream of ruin.

Misty broke out of her dumb shock to wonder what started this blaze when she realised her building was on fire as well. Leaping back from the window in alarm, her hand immediately shot for her pokéball belt.

"Misty!" Gary shouted from outside, banging loudly at the door. "The building's on fire! Hey!"

"I'm coming!" She screamed back, snatching up her clothing (as she slept in her underwear) and barrelling through the door. They had slept in a poorly maintained, abandoned house, and the door came right off at the hinges.

As she came through, she was hit with smoke. Misty coughed violently while someone dragged her down. It was Gary, pulling her beneath the smoke.

"Let's go, let's go!"

Gary shoved Misty before him as they followed Eevee. The little dog scouted ahead of them, ducking his little head around every corner to check that the way was clear. He led them away from several openings spewing smoke, and finally nodded his head decisively one direction.

"Ee!"

The three of them tumbled forward coming to the head of the staircase. The problem was, there was no stairs – the fire had eaten away the foundations and left nothing more than a few smouldering sticks.

Gary swore, covering his mouth from the smoke. He tried to think of a way down, but Misty didn't miss a beat and vaulted over the railing, landing well enough on the ground floor. Gary and Eevee followed her.

Throwing a chair through the window, the two humans and the pokémon stumbled outside. Dragging themselves out, they struggled to cough out the smoke and breath in the slightly lighter air. Someone ran over in a panic.

It was Nurse Joy, who was grateful to see someone alive. She held Misty and Eevee, babbling uncontrollably.

"What's happening?! There's fire everywhere and I was in the chapel and praying and it got hot and what's happening?!"

Pushing aside her own troubles, Misty grabbed Joy tightly to comfort her.

"Shh, shh, we need to keep our heads." She said, and the nurse gathered herself with a nod. Gary checked his sword handle to see if it was too hot to touch.

"The convent burnt down – I think she's the only one to get out."

Joy clenched her eyes to try and keep the thought from mind while Misty, Gary and Eevee watched the building fall to the ground. Misty looked up at Gary.

"What started this fire?" She asked. Gary grimaced

He pointed up at the sky, where against the smoke Misty could see red shapes flipping around. "Charizards." Gary explained. "This was set on purpose. Probably the League."

Misty let go of the nurse, who straightened up and breathed slowly to collect herself. As the pink-haired woman let Eevee drop to the ground, Misty asked Gary: "Where are the others?"

"They're trying to save anyone they can." Nurse Joy answered, standing. "We should as well." The nun helped Misty to her feet. "You're a water master, you should be able to put out some of the fire."

Looking around at the red glow of the withering city, Misty was sceptical. "Maybe."

"The fire's spreading fast, we need to move." Gary advised. "You two do that, Eevee and I will get who we can."

They agreed and Gary handed over Blastoise's pokéball to Misty. She thanked him and waited for Nurse Joy to say a quick prayer and lead her, while Gary ran a hand through his spikey hair, took a long breath and went the other direction.

-- --

"Stop that dying, y'all! Kill them!" Ordered the League trainer, one 'Lara Laramie', who was obviously delusional. She tossed her blue hair with shallow contempt as her retinue of minions were easily beaten aside, feeling that their loss was from pure laxity.

In among the fight, Brock lashed out hard and a trainer went down. Whipping out his pistol, he shot the man as he fell, and then glanced around for more targets. The Rock Master saw Onix flatten both a Cinderquil and a Growlithe, and let his eyes fall on Laramie, who was standing aside, a riding crop as her weapon.

Seeing Brock focus his attention on her, she winked. "Well now, at least I get the cute one." She noted in her Southern accent, opening her pokéball. "Rapidash, Fire Spin!"

The horse galloped from its beam of light, flaming mane flickering like the burning city. It opened its mouth to launch a stream of fire, but was cut off when Onix leapt into its side, sending the fire pokémon flying.

Lara set her hands on her hips and huffed. "Now really, is that any way to treat a lady?" She asked seriously, further cementing her detachment from reality. Brock smiled at her, as she was very easy on the eyes.

"Well, I can't say I hate hitting on women, but not in this sense!" He said, shrugging. "Let's turn this into a romantic barbeque and forget all this killing nonsense, hey?"

The Southern belle actually seemed to consider the option, when Lance leapt in from all his hard work fighting.

"Damn your proclivities!" He roared, sweeping his halberd widely. The dragon-carved blade went clean through the midriffs of a League Trainer and his Chameleon, which were the last of the ambushing party. "This is serious, Boulder King!"

"Oh, butt out, wet-shirt!" Laramie said, waving her riding crop at the short man. The Dragon Master responded by springing forward and driving his halberd into the woman's stomach.

The blue-haired woman glanced down at the weapon that had punctured through her in offended shock and fixed Lance with a glare. "Now that was just rude!" She condemned just before dying.

Pulling his weapon free, the black-haired man tried to ignore Brock's protests. "Hey! She was totally into me!"

Grunting, Lance knelt down and examined Lara's uniform, which was common to all the League soldiers who attacked them. They wore red cloaks with a fiery theme around the rim of the hood, fixed with a bronze clasp.

"The Lost Gym of Cinnabar." Lance said aloud, as the other Resistance leader came up beside him. "Fire against Grass – they knew we were here."

His comrade was hardly listening. Kneeling down, Brock double-checked the clothing as though he couldn't quite believe it, rubbing the material with his fingers. Onix curled around and tried to look over his master's shoulder. "Ash has gone completely insane. This is a League city!"

Snarling, Lance turned his attention to the air, failing to notice Brock using Ash's name without entering a catatonic state. "We can agree on that. Let's fly." The Dragon Master let his hand fall to his pokéballs but stopped when Brock gave him a look.

"Up there, surrounded by Charizards? You're on your own."

Lance was about to argue back, when something exploded a few blocks over. When the noise died down, they turned their attention away from the falling debris and back to each other. "Fine, we're taking your Onix."

They moved to climb up the rock snake's stony hide when they heard a cry from a nearby building.

"Help! Somebody help!"

Looking up, they saw the cry coming from a window, a waving silhouette therein. Wasting no time, Brock ordered Onix up to the opening, allowing the person to crawl on. As the pokémon lowered the rescued down, they recognised him as Tracey.

"Sketchit, what were you doing in there?" Lance demanded, waving his weapon the watcher's way.

Tracey stood to salute as well as he could, being exhausted. "I was trying to observe the situation, Sir!"

The Resistance leader found that an acceptable answer and lowered the polearm. He tugged at his collar impatiently – his military dress and cape was very uncomfortable in this heat. "And?"

"The city is surrounded by a circle of fire, being pushed quickly inward, Sir."

Brock and Lance exchanged a look and an uncomfortable silence fell over them. Tracey looked at the ground while they lingered among the dead corpses of the Lost Gym. Finally, Lance changed hands with his halberd decisively. "This isn't an invasion at all. The bastards are trying to destroy their own city."

Tracey raised his eyes. "We need to save as many people as we can." He said, almost forgetting "Sir."

Stone-Baron nodded and turned to Lance. "He's right. We should split up."

"Fine." Legend-Stalker agreed. "Do it. Be sure to find water pokémon to fire-fight our way out of here."

The Dragon Master opened a pokéball, revealing a towering Dragonite. The yellow dragon mewed as Lance climbed its back, then took off like a jet down the street, careful not to fly too high. Brock mounted the head of his Onix, which worked up the opposite way, leaving Tracey all by himself in the sweaty-hot street.

"Uh, fine." The watcher said to himself after a moment, wiping the moisture off with his sweatband. "I'll just walk then, shall I?"

-- --

Waving her hand simply, Sabrina projected a steady psychic force over the blaze in front of her. Pressing down gradually, she slowly choked the flames out. As the last of the flicking tendrils disappeared, and when Sabrina was satisfied the move had worked, she lifted the pressure.

It sprung back to life again in an instant, causing the psychic to grimace almost noticeably. She was about to try again with both hands when she thought she felt familiar presences nearby. Coating herself with a protective psychic bubble, she hovered through burning wreckage. Burning rafters bounced off the force of her mind and safely came out the other side without even feeling the heat.

She found in this new street a group of people – Resistance soldiers and Celadon locals alike – saving some people from a fire. The victims tumbled from their windows in to the waiting arms of those below, while one of the Resistance fighters had their Coralsa fight the flames as well as they could. A Nidoking and Nidoqueen were moving dangerous wreckage.

From this crowd someone cried out, and Sabrina looked to see an Eevee bound towards her. Gary Oak soon followed, sweating from the heat, and leaving the others to tend to the rescued.

"It is you!" He said in relief, coming to a halt. "Glad to see a friendly face." He looked at the dark-haired woman's flat expression. Eevee snickered. "Well, y'know…"

Oak looked down at what she was wearing in shock. He tried to form the question, but Sabrina beat him to the punch.

"I was sleeping." She stated, fully aware that she was in pyjamas. Gary could understand – he'd caught Misty in her underwear – but couldn't get his head around the thought of the famous psychic Sabrina, who mentally tortured half the trainers in Kanto, in something as innocent as pyjamas. Or doing something so human as sleep. The little spoons all over the dark fabric were a surreal touch.

The floating psychic decided to help him shake it off by resuming conversation. "My attempts to fight the fire have proved fruitless."

Focussed on the situation again, Gary shook his head. "Don't bother. We're not going to put out a fire this big." He advised, looking back at the group of people behind him. "Let's save who we can – you should start teleporting whoever you can find out of here."

"The League psychic will detect me." Sabrina countered grimly, thinking of her replacement, Will. Gary laughed humourlessly.

"I think the League already knows we're here, hey?" He said. "Speaking of whom, we fought off some guys on the way here, didn't we Eevee?" The dog yelped up an affirmative.

Sabrina nodded and followed Gary as he led her to the group. They marvelled at her levitation. "Cinnabar's Lost Gym." She explained. "This is Quiz-Master's work."

"Yeah, Blaine." Gary looked around and set himself a course of action. "You get people out, I'm going to look for more. Punch through the line. Maybe take out someone important."

Approving of this plan, Sabrina organised for every to hold hands. She didn't feel the least foreboding as she brought them safely outside city limits in a flash of light, but a bad feeling hit her suddenly when Gary's presence simply winked out of her senses. Almost like something was blocking her detecting it…

-- --

"Egg Bomb!" Erika screamed, throwing down her hand with the signal. The row of Eggsecutors behind her all fired on command, launching a barrage of explosive eggs at the approaching Lost Gym-members. The Green Knight peered over the piece of shattered wall that was her cover to see the only effect was to damage the city more and slow the centre slightly.

At her signal, the Rangers with her all sprung from their hiding spots and fired. The volley of arrows proved slightly more effective, a few red cowls going down, but most of the wooden shafts were burned up mid-flight. She and the Rangers ducked back down as their position was peppered with Fire-Blasts and Embers.

Being a proper girl, Erika restrained herself from swearing, but that didn't stop her kicking a loose rock savagely in frustration. Her city was burning. It was the League doing it. This was all so wrong.

And look at her. All that talk about not fighting, and this was how easily she betrayed her ideals.

She touched her face lightly as the tears threatened to come, but she steeled herself and shook it off. Not in front of the men. She could cry when she was alone.

Rocking her head back and hitting it against the charred brick wall, she tried to think of a plan while the Rangers took another volley without her orders. She hated fighting, she never wanted to fight. She was never any good at this…

Which gave her an idea. Why fight when you didn't want to? Especially when you couldn't possibly win? She raised her sickle, drawing her men's attention.

"All pokémon, front and centre!" There were scattered flashes of red light as the men summoned their grass-types, including Erika's Vileplume. Some of the Rangers exchanged concerned looks, hoping this wasn't some sort of last stand. "Everyone, Sweet Scent, Paralysis, Sleep Powder, whatever, all at once on my count!" She cried, pulling herself into a crouch. "When they're stunned, pull back!"

She didn't need any confirmation from them, and she readied herself to run. The Green Knight was pleased that she had decided to change into a practical skirt and top – running in that kimono, particularly in this heat, would have been hell.

"Three!" She cried, wasting no time on drama as she proceeded onto, "Two! One! Now-"

Her orders were lost as a sudden river of fire washed over the cover, catching many green-cloaks and sending them screaming in pain. The jet of fire didn't let up, sweeping up and down the defensive line, catching most of the hiding rangers. Erika's skirt caught alight, and desperate to not end up like the flaming men nearby, she leapt to the ground and rolled out the small blaze, Vileplume risking herself to help pat it out with her leaves.

The fire out with no real damage, Erika looked up. The area was filled with a smell other than smoke, and keeping her eyes from the black corpses Erika forced herself not to think about it. There were about five Rangers still standing with their pokémon, two of whom were fleeing.

Choking back a curse, Celadon's Gym-Leader called her men over.

"This is Hell." One man, wearing a grey moustache said flatly. "We've been sent to Hell for harbouring the League's foes."

Erika didn't need to hear that, looking around at the burning surroundings and the red glow washing over her once fertile home. She figured there was no point forming a withdrawal plan; just get together and run.

The last straggling Ranger jumped down a small rise with his Jumpluff, but neither reached the ground alive. A long bronze chain swung out from nowhere, a flaming ball at the end catching the young man at the temple. His skull cracked, and fortunately he died before having to feel his face melt away.

The swinging chain wheeled around and came crashing down on top of Jumpluff. The pokémon was shocked to see his master struck so quickly, and was unprepared for the blow. Jumpluff floated uncontrollably, its grassy body on fire.

Appearing from out of the fire emerge the source of the chain – a tall bald man with a ridiculous moustache in a white coat. Erika gasped, while the young man beside her rushed forward with his Oddish bounding with him.

Moustache cried after him to stop, but it was too late. Leaping powerfully over a wall, a red Magmar appeared, swiping its sharp yellow claws. Oddish was grabbed completely by one great hand and smashed into a wall. It cracked, and as Oddish fell it left a trail of white sap.

The grass trainer tried to counter-attack, but Magmar turned his nozzle-like nose like a flame-thrower and discharged. Erika didn't even know the boy's name and she was forced to watch him die screaming.

Trying to use the foolhardy assault as a distraction, Moustache notched an arrow and fired. Blaine was quicker though, driving his chain forward like a dart, knocking the shot from the air, and rolling forward in an athletic twirling leap, using his body to spin the extended chain.

Flipping around, the flaming head slammed down hard at the side of Moustache's neck. There was a _crack_ – several vertebrae moved. The ranger went down.

Erika couldn't keep the fury from her face as she watched Blaine turn his attention back to her, his Magmar approaching Vileplume cockily.

The Grass Master's pokémon backed away fearfully while Erika reached to her side and withdrew a second bronze sickle. Holding her dual weapons up, she could see that the second weapon amused Blaine.

"Aside: I thought it would have been a hammer." He hummed, spinning his weapon casually.

Narrowing her eyes, Erika couldn't see past Blaine's opaque sunglasses, but she could tell he was enjoying this thoroughly. He wasn't jesting from arrogance, or from pretension. He was genuinely happy to be burning down people's lives and homes. The Fire Master could hardly restrain the joy of arson.

"I refuse to believe the Champion ordered this." Hissed Erika, standing up into a fighting stance. Vileplume, seeing that her master wanted to stand firm, swallowed her fear.

Blaine smiled. "Affirmation: You're right."

In a flutter of his white coat, the Cinnabar Gym-Leader flicked his censor-weapon forward. Erika lurched back, but the chain wrapped around her sickle. Blaine pulled, launching her weapon into the air. She dove for it, but missed.

Vileplume didn't though, and reached out like a snap with her vine whip, dropping the bronze handweapon back into Erika's hands. Magmar charged forward to counter-attack, but the grass-type caught the fire-lizard across the cheek with a second vine whip.

Blaine whistled in appreciation, spinning his weapon and advancing slowly. Erika gave ground. "Commentary: More impressive that I'd anticipated."

"Insatiable, Ever-Hungry, Kindler, Quiz-Master." The Green Knight said, pulling into a very Asian defensive stance. "Now I have a question for you: Did you think I wouldn't have thought up a way to fight you?"

Spinning forward a tornado, Erika attacked. Blaine's weapon had a long reach that was devastating offensively, but had little value defensively. If she struck fast and hard like Surge advised, she could get him.

Whipping straight past his effective range, she came up close, bringing a curled blade around tear into his stomach. The larger man was nonplussed and neatly head butted her in the face.

Erika fell back, skilfully turning it into a backwards roll, avoiding a counter-swing from Kindler.

"Answer:" Blaine provided while his Magmar cracked his knuckles. "I simply didn't care!"

-- --

"This way!" Cried Lance, pointing forward with his dragon-headed halberd. The group of people he'd rescued or collected followed him over a wall of fallen but burnt out remains. As they stumbled down it's blackened footholds, the Dragon Master instinctively dabbed at his forehead to wipe away the sweat – only, there wasn't any.

_Must be cooling down._ He thought, glancing around at the still alight city. Perhaps the fires were burning through all their fuel…

When all assembled, Lance pushed forward and around the corner in the street. What they saw froze them in place.

The street was thick with ice. Everything was frozen over – the stores, the rubble, the remains of cars… even large blocks of ice that could very well have been human. It was a bizzare ice sculpture show.

Recovering her voice, the Celadon local next to Lance opened her mouth. Her name was Jenny, an Officer with the Rangers. "What… is this?"

Where did all this ice come from? How could it stay frozen in all this heat? Lance had his jaw set tight. He knew – it was the last person in the world he wanted to see.

"Listen up." Legend-Stalker ordered, not taking his eyes from the crystalline sight before him. "Everyone stick together. Go and group together with whoever you can and get out of Celadon."

Jenny started. She was under the impression that this was some sort of counter-attack. "But…"

Slamming the butt of his polearm on the ground, the Dragon Master growled. "Celadon is dead!" Unwilling to shift his eyes, he waved off the others. "I will deal with this!"

Reluctantly, Jenny hustled the crowd off, sparing Lance one last glance before disappearing around the corner. Gritting his teeth, Lance released Dragonite and set carefully out along the strip of ice. Even with such sturdy footwear, he had to focus on his footing.

It was very quiet on this street – the burning sounds and even the smells of the rest of Celadon felt far away here. It sharpened Lance's reflexes too the point that when Dragonite stepped and cracked some ice, he jumped. The yellow dragon smiled down apologetically, and the Dragon Master sighed before shaking it off and continuing on.

Working deeper into the ice, the Resistance Leader considered –

"Blizzard!"

Lance rolled while Dragonite shot off with great speed. They both narrowly avoided being peppered with shards of razor-hail as a great snowstorm kicked up. Hiding behind a frozen postbox, Legend-Stalker cursed. Peering out, he saw the source of the attack – a Jynx on top of an old patisserie.

His dragon saw it too, and turned on a dime to rocket up at the viking-woman pokémon. The yellow streak smashed through the roof like it was water, and in the blast of ice and cinder the Jynx somersaulted safely to the street.

"I had expected you from the other direction." Came a straight female voice.

Lance hit the back of his head against the post box. Lorelei. Why, of all the Champion's lackeys, did he have to fight the only one whose element was strong against his?

"I'm tricky like that, you old cow." He called back, trying to look around and assess the situation. He barely avoided getting his head shot, the bullet chipping into the ice.

He saw enough though – Lorelei was in the middle of the street, pinning him with a pair of small pistols. She was moving with impossible ease across the ice in her heels to where her Jynx was, perhaps trying to get an angle on him.

Lorelei's response contained to trace of offence. "That is an inappropriate way to address a member of the Elite Four." She said, guns never shifting from the ice-crusted post box.

Hitting his head again, Lance cursed himself for thinking he could wait before picking up a gun. At least Dragonite should still be lurking around the side streets, waiting to bail him out of a bad situation.

"How about fourth-rate nobody?" He cried back, looking around for an escape. "All those open spots and you still couldn't move up in rank!"

Had he been able to stick his head out, Legend-Stalker might have seen Lorelei's face twitch – a mighty blow. The Ice Queen indicated to Jynx to take the other flank and they both started rounding on Lance from either side. No escape.

She continued talking in hopes it would keep him in place. "Lance – Dragon Master, Legend-Stalker, Fury, Crest-Holder." She recited, taking careful step over step. "Still as arrogant as ever."

"I have every right to be!" The Resistance trainer announced, unaware that Lorelei could see the top of his polearm. A few more steps and she and Jynx could…

Dragonite exploded through a shop wall and hurdled at Lorelei. She threw herself to the ice-slick ground as the immense pokémon rushed overhead. Jynx turned and fired and blue ice beam, but the dragon barrel-rolled around it and bodily slammed into the smaller ice-type.

Lance grabbed the opportunity to make a break for it. Despite hitting the ice hard, Lorelei had a gun up immediately, taking pot shots at the ex-Elite-Champion. Black hair and cape billowing, Lance skidded along the slippery road, bullets slicing by. He managed to slide in through an open door.

Turning to the Dragonite, Lorelei saw it withdraw before Jynx before the white-haired pokémon could bring its type-advantage to full effect. The great beast disappeared behind the row of low buildings, completely out of sight. Jynx looked expectantly at her master, who adjusted her glasses sharply.

This was very frustrating.

-- --

Something was very _wrong_, Gary realised. Walking through a burning city full of dying people was wrong enough as it was, but there's wrong and then there's _wrong_. Something was distinctly off about reality in the area into which he stumbled. Eevee felt it too, the small dog taking hesitant steps forward, looking up at his master at regular intervals, each looking saying 'Can we leave now?'

They had found their way into a part of the city in which the fire was really getting to work. There was barely a building upright, and there was no road, merely spaces between burning debris. Each pile was like a bonfire to the dead he couldn't save. Why was he here? There was no one to rescue…

He was lost, that's why. It hurt to admit, given his famous sense of direction, but lay of the land seemed to keep changing…

Stepping over a heat-twisted pipe, trying to rationalise this feeling in his gut, Gary experienced a sudden feeling, like a woman pressing her body up against his back. Then, it was gone.

Glancing down at Eevee, Gary saw the dog even more terrified than before. That was concerning; pokémon were generally more sensitive about weird things like this.

That's when a face appeared in the shadows.

It was a woman's – pale and made like a model. Emerging from the shadow cast by a thick wall, the woman's hollow features rolled into a grin, her black lipstick emphasising every twitch of her mouth.

"Ah, you look like an enjoyable fellow."

Gary was rather used to seeing freaky stuff like this, but one never grew blasé about this sort of thing. He stopped and pointed his rifle at her, a tight expression on his face.

"Who are you? How are you doing that?"

The face winked at him and crawled out of the shadow like from a pit. Gary managed to keep his horror behind his face as he watched each pale limb unfold, flowering into a shapely woman in a tight short dress made of what looked like shed snake-skin. Eevee wasn't as cool, edging back towards his master as the dog watched the dead white hair fall sensuously around the shadow lady's features.

"My my, I generally prefer my midnight rendezvous' anonymous." She purred, stretching seductively. Pulling up her long hair and letting it fall. The firelight cast her in a demon glow. "But I suppose I can make an exception for you, mighty Oak."

Something about her appearance was bothering Gary. She was wrong – the wrong sort of wrong. She curved very nicely, her eyes shone and begged, but he couldn't find her attractive. Gary couldn't drag his eyes away from her black lips as her mouth arched to say more.

"I am the dark things." She said, whispering like a pant. "I am the hidden bits. I am Night-Whisper, I am Gym-Slayer." The dark lady licked her lips in a fashion Gary didn't like. "I am Unmentionable. I am Karen, the Elite First."

She shot him a kiss, making the Pallet trainer cringe, and the shadows at her feet drifted up like a gas, taking the form of a Houndoom. Suddenly the impossible mist became a Houndoom in truth, the black hound growling, its teeth bared.

Eevee focused on the rival pokémon quickly and jumped forward in preparation. Pokémon he could deal with – all this weird vampire business was his master's department.

Surprised at being faced with Kanto's second-ranked pokémon trainer in the middle of a burning city, Gary did the only natural thing – he raised his AK-47 and fired.

Houndoom didn't react as the bullets pattered into Karen's body – kicking up splashes of black mist instead of blood. Releasing the trigger, Gary was shocked to see Karen reduced, from the waist up, to a mess of dark tendrils waving about freely in the air. His shock turned to fear as the limbs re-wove themselves into the Elite First's form.

"Well now," the monster said, running her hand along her collarbone. "Somebody jumped the gun, didn't they?"

-- --

"Seadra, keep that blaze down!" Misty cried, pointing at a grocery store that had burst into flame suddenly. The floating blue sea horse raced over to follow her command. "Blastoise, keep it up!" Gary's Blastoise was handily dealing with the encroaching fire from the West by himself. Misty turned back to the most immediate problem. "And Starmie, will you get this guy out of my hair already?!"

The flying star spun around at speed, avoiding a streaking flamethrower attack. The guy in question was a thin boy in brightly coloured shorts and a singlet, his Lost Gym robes hanging loosely from his shoulders. His hair was styled up like a flame – he looked like a moron.

Currently he was getting into Misty's hair with a large Marcargo. The large lava-like snail had proven resistant to water-based assault by evaporating incoming attacks with a pinpoint bout of fire. It was proving a great irritation, as Misty had to deal with the jerk and firefight a citywide inferno simultaneously.

"Heh, yeah get angry." Stated the Lost Gym-Member, who identified himself as Egan, crossing his arms. So far Egan was content to stay back and hide behind his pokémon. Small blessings. "You're totally hot when you're angry."

Misty grit her teeth and restrained herself, thankful that she had changed out of the bed sheet before dealing with the fire. The way Egan spoke, he may have been a stalker. Perhaps he was an over-zealous fan?

Behind her, Nurse Joy had managed a complete turn around in attitude and was busy giving impromptu aid to various burn victims, human and pokémon. Misty's one-woman war on burning Celadon meant that her proximity was the safest spot in the entire city. Most of the survivors who had gathered to her had grass pokémon rather than anything useful, but all who were able bodied did what they could to fight the fires around them and save others. Nobody worried about the Water Master, fully confident that she could deal with some Cinnabar punk.

Starmie swung around the far slower Marcargo, blasting a quick watergun from its tip. The snail lethargically turned to see the column of water blasting towards it, then opened its maw and spewed fire. The two attacks collided barely a metre from Marcargo's face, and exploded into a cloud of scolding steam. Damage successfully adverted, Marcargo dragged itself along tediously, leaving a trail of sludge like burning napalm.

Grinning lecherously, Egan waggled his eyebrows. "Gotta say, I'm loving those Daisy Dukes." He yelled at the multi-tasking Misty, running his eyes up her long legs.

Fuming, the red head turned savagely and jabbed her finger at the giant pokémon. "That's it!" She screamed, causing Nurse Joy to glance up for a moment and Egan to flinch. "Everybody, hit the Marcargo!"

Marcargo looked rather concerned as all of Misty's pokémon rounded on it at once, as well as Blastoise, who was following orders largely out of bemusement. Unable to counter all bursts of water at once, the snail could only cry out as it was hosed down from several different directions.

Steam rose and the fire pokémon slowly deflated, hardening and turning grey. Misty desperately hoped that didn't mean it was dead, but was knocked out of her concerns by Egan yelling and stamping.

"Dammit girl! How could you do this to me?"

Acting of his own accord, Blastoise launched forward with his surprising speed, withdrawing into his shell and spinning. Slamming solidly into the thin fire aficionado, Blastoise sent the man flying. Egan hit and wall and collapsed in a heap.

Telling herself that he was merely unconscious and conveniently forgetting that a man with a concussion had no chance in the hell Celadon had become, Misty turned her attentions back to the inferno.

"Right! Everyone, let's see what we could do!"

All the water pokémon got to work, and while she was directing them, Misty considered the situation. The Lost Gym of Cinnabar started this madness – that meant Blaine, and where there was Blaine, there was Lorelei. Where Lorelei was, nothing good was.

Pursing her lips in worry, Misty spared herself a glance backwards into the burning centre of the low city. The area she could plausibly save was so woefully small. She hoped the others were safe.

-

-

**Author's Notes:**

Argh! So long… I didn't want to break this chapter up, but I'm going to have to. What do you guys think? Do you prefer shorter chapters, or big long ones?

**RedHeadtheGirl:** Ah, thank you for your kind review! I'm glad you like it; I was getting nervous at the lack of reviews. I don't want to give too much away about Ash in this story, but suffice to say the tension you noticed was intentional.


	10. We All Burn Down 2

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Pokémon. If I did, I'd be rich. But I don't, and I'm not, so please don't sue me Nintendo.

-

**Grasping the Moon**

Chapter 10 – And We All Burn Down 

Part 2

The ice was starting to melt. It didn't matter how good an Ice Master you were, you couldn't keep an open-air fridge freezing cold in the middle of a burning city. The water was trickling from the frozen walls and pooling on the ice-slick street.

On the plus side, it was keeping Lorelei fairly still. Her ability to walk in high-heels was incredible, but there was no way she was going to risk slipping. Further on the plus side, the cool air was more comfortable for Lance in his current attire, and gave him a fresh feeling.

On the down side, Ice-Bitch had guns. Ducking underneath the windows of the clothing store, Lance considered his options. He didn't need to sneak a peek to see that Lorelei was keeping a solid vigil over his location while her Jynx kept a look out for Lance's surprisingly stealthy Dragonite.

Unfortunately, Crest-Holder's great halberd was not easy to slip around with unnoticed, and Lorelei must have seen a hint of it. She opened fire on his position mercilessly, causing the Resistance Leader to duck down and cover himself from the shower of ice.

Jynx darted her eyes over at the gunfire, distracting her for that millisecond Dragonite needed to fire a huge hyper beam through the building. The mass of golden energy withered the iced structure like straw and struck Jynx hard. The longhaired pokémon dug her feet in to resist, tearing up trenches in the ice as she was pushed back relentlessly.

While her pokémon was smashed hard, Lorelei stood unmoved, the beam missing her narrowly. She didn't even flinch, having absolute faith the attack wouldn't touch her. While the wind tunnel kicked up by the hyper beam whipped her purple hair wildly, Lorelei tucked one of her empty pistols back in its holster while she reloaded.

That was Lance's own chance. He burst clean through the wall halberd first, rocketing towards the Elite-Fourth, the tip of the weapon zeroing in at the centre of Lorelei's eyes.

Ice-Queen dropped her pistol and its clip to the ground to slip beside the long shaft and grab it. Without a trace of exertion, she pulled and swung, intending to launch Legend-Stalker like a hammer throw.

Lance refused to be thrown, and let go of the weapon, letting Frozen Maiden stumble. He capitalised and kicked her to the street. Snatching up his ornate pole arm to finish the job, the gaunt trainer turned only to get a face full of ice shards his opponent had snatched from the street.

No doubt Lorelei was going for the gun, and Lance wasn't sticking around for her to reload and blast him. Without fully recovering his vision, the Dragon Master sprinted wildly, tumbling through an open window just as bullets came slamming around him.

Hissing with anger, Lorelei kept her pistol trained on Lance's position, trying to reload the other one single-handed. She tried balancing the magazine on her chest, but it wasn't working.

Looking back at her pokémon, the Ice Queen saw that she had survived, lying exhausted before a huge trench melted into the frozen street. "Get up." Lorelei ordered coldly, and Jynx dragged herself to her feet, shaking. The yellow dragon had, like his master, decided not to stick around for return fire, and was doubtless circling them in the hidden backstreets.

Jynx took weak steps towards her master, who would only pay heed to the pokémon's pain when the viking started losing limbs. "Help me with this." Ice-Queen said, tossing the stout ice pokémon the magazine and pistol. She reloaded it in silence.

"Onix, Rock Throw!"

Neither bothered to look as they dived aside, a giant piece of concrete fell like a meteor where they had been standing, cracking ice and throwing up a snowstorm.

It was Brock, posing dramatically on top of a three-story house, his Onix hovering by his side. The glow of the surrounding inferno tossing smoke into the air like confetti framing the blue-white snow-field the street had become formed a surreal backdrop for Stone-Baron's entrance. He smiled down at the Elite-Fourth. "Well, this is pretty cool!"

He didn't even get a chance to enjoy his pun before Lorelei shot him in the chest. Brock fell backwards out of view, his Onix diving after him.

Distraction forgotten, Ice-Queen pointed at Lance's cover. "Jynx, Blizzard."

Grimacing her huge lips from pain, Jynx drew back and summoned up a barrage of ice shards to bombard the home.

-- --

Snarling and snapping, the two dogs wrestled violently, desperate to close their teeth over each other's jugular. Though outclassed in weight, Eevee proved strong and agile, too slippery for the wolfish Houndoom to catch in a straight lock. Breaking out of the mess of teeth, fur and claws, Eevee darted for high ground.

Without missing a beat, Houndoom opened its slobbering maw and roared forth fire. The flames spilled over the charred earth, clipping at Eevee's heels. The smaller dog stayed fast though, and made it up on top of a fallen chimney, a fence of fire at its base. Shutting up its fiery breath, the dark hound snarled up at the other pokémon.

Leaping greatly, the jet black pokémon cleared the flames and pounced at Eevee. The smaller dog rounded to the side as the larger landed, and nipped forward to tear off the tip of Houndoom's ear.

Pulling the flesh free, Eevee made a quick retreat, leaping over the flames and turning back to see if Houndoom would follow.

The wolf-hound glared down at Eevee with impossible malice. Its wounded ear didn't bleed, but steamed black like its master's wounds. Healing up, Houndoom rocked back and howled at the invisible moon hatefully, then trotted off the chimney and into the fire below.

Eevee backed up in surprise, watching as his opponent fell _through_ the fire, as though descending directly into Hell itself. Eyes twitching, the astonished pokémon wondered where Houndoom could have disappeared.

"Ee?" He asked uncertainly.

Suddenly there was a demonic growl, and the wolf launched out of the blaze _behind_ Eevee. The dog hardly dodged to the side. Houndoom recovered quickly and rolled over and pounded Eevee into the ground. Its savage claws tore across the dog's skin, but only lightly.

Rolling free, Eevee came to his feet and gasped for breath. Blood stained his fur. A monster-pokémon who could teleport through fire. In the middle of a burning city. This couldn't end well.

As the two dogs reengaged, Gary was finding his time even harder. He learnt quickly that mere bullets weren't going to stop Karen – every time they tore her to bits, she proved to be composed of darkness rather than blood and guts. She merely healed right up. Changing tact, Gary was now trying his sword, but with equally little effect.

Sweeping the blade right through the Elite-First's perfect stomach, Gary found the blade met no resistance. It passed through like through a shadow, leaving only a trail of dark smoke. Karen chuckled.

"Oh no no _no_!" Karen said with a smile, stepping down into a flickering shadow like a staircase. "That won't do at all!"

Gary swung his sword down, but Karen's white hair had already disappeared, leaving his blade to strike only fractured concrete. Knowing what was coming, he spun around with his weapon.

Karen was advancing from behind, but smiled invitingly as the blade passed harmlessly across her neck. Shooting him a kiss and a wink, she slipped back into the shadows. Things continued on in this fashion, Gym-Slayer navigating through an invisible network behind the shadows to appear from all sides, while Gary sliced her up incessantly.

Slashing ferociously, Gary managed to slice the woman into eight distinct pieces, a disturbing smile on her face as each eighth slid. Her whole body save her carved face went black, moulding itself like wispy clay back into her original form. Twirling her hair, she sunk into the ground.

"Well, screw this." Oak exclaimed, sheathing his sword. He shivered when a voice spoke huskily into his ear.

"I'd rather you'd sheathe your sword in me." It gasped. "It's much more fun."

Springing forward, Gary looked over his shoulder to see that Night-Whisper had been leaning into his ear. As he fled, looking for some weapon that could work against her, he saw her smile.

Nearby, he saw a fire and made a beeline for it, hoping she didn't decide to stop playing and attack.

-- --

Eevee was starting to catch the drift of Houndoom's attack scheme. While powerful, the wolfhound was too full of hate and rage to think straight, and fell back on instinctive patterns – attack from the fire, retreat, attack from another fire, and so on. As it came hissing from a nearby flame, Eevee ducked easily to the side.

Houndoom snapped viciously at Eevee, but the dog had been too smooth to take another blow since the scratch. The blood had even dried from that one. Giving himself some distance, Eevee wound up and shot forward too quick to see.

He struck the Houndoom in the jaw, causing the hound to fall back. Eevee overshot and skidded to a halt, turning to see the damage. The sinister canine's jaw was bubbling darkness, and there was pain in its freshly infuriated eyes. Having hoped for more, Eevee set his cute little jaw and sped forward again, faster this time.

The left side of the black dog's flank was shorn off, leaving a splash of dark mist. Without wasting a second, Eevee swept by again, taking off the hound's ear again. Another strike. Houndoom couldn't react. Another. The black wolf was thrown in the air. Another. Its back right leg was strike right off. Another. Another. Another.

Gary's lead pokémon kept striking again and again and again with further increasing speeds, blasting into the dark-type with insane force. He didn't stop until the evil thing was reduced to nothing more than a cloud of darkness.

Slidding to a halt, padded feet burning, Eevee turned his attention to the fog, noting as it pulled itself together to reform into the dreaded Houndoom. Spinning sleekly, he dragged his tail across the debris-strewn ground, kicking up a spray of sand that mingled with the dark cloud.

With the sand as interference, Houndoom didn't dare retake his corporeal form, and the mist cleared, moving off somewhere else. Seeing that the creature was gone, Eevee let himself fall on his behind, shaking his head in exhaustion.

"Eee-_vee_!" He muttered to himself.

-- --

As he ran, Gary made the mistake of glancing behind. Of course she wasn't there – she was in front of him, as he discovered, skidding and barely remaining upright.

Karen had a wicked smile and slashed out at him with her fingernails. Gary bounded back, but something dark was at work, and black tendrils spurted from her fingertips and sliced him across the chest.

_Argh, my shirt! _Gary thought unmindful of the pain and blood. He checked swiftly; fortunately she'd missed his necklace.

Seeing him holding the trinket, Karen suddenly was up in his face, fondling the ying-yang symbol in her hand.

"Hm, what an amusing bauble…" She mused.

Gary pulled away and ran, resuming his course.

Coming up to a mass of celebrating flames, Gary grabbed a suitable wooden beam. Lifting it up, he saw its end was still burning brightly. He had to be swift; the monster would be with him wherever he ran. With grim determination, Gary turned from the warm fire to see without surprise the cold vision of Karen standing painfully close.

Gripping the beam in both hands, he stabbed with the flaming tip, hoping that like the old heroes of the past, his monstrous foe could be sealed up with fire. It passed right through.

Karen looked down at the wooden stake buried into her chest, right where the heart should be. She had on her face a look of curiosity, as though no one else had ever tried something like that. She looked casually up at Gary, who slumped his shoulders in frustration.

"My my, novel." She said, licking her lips. "Whatever shall I do with you?"

Running his hand over his sweat slick forehead and into his dirty hair, Gary grunted in defeat.

"Fine, okay, you win." He said, approaching on Karen's tall form. "Let's do it."

Watching the trainer approach her caused Gym-Slayer some surprise. She let her body loosen so the wooden beam could fall to the ground with a clatter. "What do you mean?"

Gary waved his hand impatiently. "You know, get it on." He placed his hands on her hips, even though the feel of her firm body through the thin dress was strangely repulsive. "What the hell, lets do it here – by the fire under the night sky."

The Elite-First was dazed. No one had ever made advances on her before. She didn't even know what to do at this stage. She looked up into Gary's eyes, which were so beautiful and chocolately. It made her sick.

Through her hips, Gary could feel Unmentionable's confusion, and he took immediate advantage, lifting her light frame into the air. She squealed. She squealed even more when he spun and threw the both of them into the fire.

It was a desperate move. She screamed variously like a woman and a Rhyhorn and like the mourning stars. On top of the hideous woman, Gary could only guess the reason he wasn't burning to death was that the streams of mist erupting from Karen's back as she burned were offering him some sort of protection. She thrashed like a snake, trying to buck him off into the blaze.

All at once, she broke into bullets of black fog, projecting themselves out of the flames. Gary leapt back just quick enough to escape the fire with only singes. Swallowing air, he could only wonder at why that had worked when the fire earlier hadn't - until he realised that there were no shadows at the heart of a flame.

A chuckle from behind. Gary groaned – she was still alive. He turned, but the sound was disembodied.

"Amazing!" She praised, though there was mocking in her tone. "Amazing! My hate-lust for you has grown even stronger!"

Quite sick of all this talk, Gary rubbed his eyes. "Just get on with it." He muttered.

But the chuckling faded, and the dark feeling lifted. When Gary looked around, the place seemed somewhat lighter, despite being the middle of the night.

"Hn." He said, touching his chin. He looked again, and everything seemed normal. Eevee was bounding over to him, blood in his fur. The fires were still eating their fill of the greenery and scenery.

The weight of the situation came upon Gary suddenly – the city was burning! He needed to save people! Spinning to face where the fires were still burning the brightest, Gary put these dark events out of mind and went to make sure as many people as possible could see the light of day again.

-- --

Brock regained consciousness in a very dark place. Glowing red snake-lights coiled around him, and the enclosed space was hot as a kiln. Groaning, his hands instinctively went to the point of pain on his chest. The bullet, failing to penetrate the Kevlar vest he always wore, had struck right over the heart.

He had to laugh. Beautiful women always ended up shooting him through the heart.

Pushing himself upright, Brock peered at his mound-cell with narrow eyes. As he tried to piece together what it was, his cage uncoiled and spoke with a rumbling voice.

"Garoar."

Onix lifted itself high, looking down on his master with concern. Brock laughed again – Onix had protected him from the fires with his stone body.

"Onix, my main man!" He cheered, patting the snake's stone segments. This was a mistake, and he pulled his hand away immediately, blowing on the scolded skin. Onix was burning hot – the inferno had gotten pretty intense.

"Thanks Onix." Brock said to his pokémon, between cooling blows. As the pain faded, he looked around at the gutted remains of Celadon, shaking his palm. "This is getting pretty bad."

He considered returning to back Lance up again, but decided that would be a spectacular exercise in idiocy. Lorelei was practically put together to beat him. Deciding that Mr. Ex-League-Champion-And-Therefore-Better-Than-You-Peasants could handle himself, Brock looked to finding other survivors and fighting their way out of the City.

Looking up at his pokémon, he opened a hand as if to say 'after you'. There was no way he was going to ride the stone giant until it cooled down a bit. "Let's get this show on the road!"

-- --

"Um, a little help here?" Tracey yelled hesitantly. His blue Marill desperately sprayed water at an approaching Torkoal. The slow-moving turtle cried out in dumb pain, but stubbornly pressed forward against the stream. A Lost Gym-member with his face obscured by his red cloak barked orders in a Hoenn accent.

_A foreigner_, Tracey mused in horror. No wonder the fire-type was so strong against such a clear type advantage – to have fought his way all the way to Kanto and make Gym membership, this guy must be pretty tough.

In concern, the watcher glanced back into the burning home. Somewhere inside its black and red depths Melissa called back.

"Shut up, I'm almost there."

Eyes flitting between the advancing Torkoal and house he was guarding, Sketchit found his teeth clenching in anxiety. If Melissa didn't back out here soon, he'd have to do something drastic. The obvious thing to do would be to have Scyther dart around the side and skewer the trainer. Tracey's hand edged towards the appropriate pokéball, but…

But the Hoenn trainer himself had made no moves to fight. He had approached this like a pokémon battle, purely one on one. Tracey felt he couldn't disrespect that. Watching Torkoal close on his comparatively tiny Marill, the watcher could only frown. _Damn my sentimental side._

Torkoal had been so cooled by the constant water gunning at his front that it couldn't build up the heat to fire, but was now within snapping range. Extending its long red neck, the stone turtle bit at Marill, only for the much faster water mouse to leap away. It worked out fine for Torkol, though, which was now free from the cascade of water.

Following the directions of its master, Torkoal reared back on its hind legs and drove down with its front legs, pounding the heat-cracked street. Again Marill slipped around, but was caught by a sudden follow-up as the large turtle barrelled into her.

Seeing his pokémon sent rolling, Tracey could see things were getting grim for the water mouse. His hand hovered indecisively over Scyther's pokéball. Torkol stood tall over Marill, his internal fire finally up to appropriate pressure. Steam trumpeted from its nostrils.

The house's broken door blew off its hinges, drawing all combatants' attention. Melissa exited, a young girl slung over her shoulders, with Golem by her side, two older boys tucked under his stout arms. Seeing the situation, she rolled her eyes and led the kids clear of the flames and set them gently on the street.

Eyes alight, the Hoenn trainer welcomed her arrival. "Ah, finally! A richer challenge!" Pulling his cloak hood free, he revealed himself to be… someone neither of them recognised. "I hail from Hoenn, the City of Lavaridge. I am known as-" At this point, Melissa shot him.

As one might expect, Torkoal was not too quick on the uptake. While the red turtle was still trying to process that its master was dead, Golem was upon him.

"Golem, Seismic Toss." Melissa ordered, already turning to tend to the unconscious children. The boulder turtle grabbed the fire one firmly by the shell, hoisting heftily over head. The inverted Torkoal struggled and moaned, but had no hope of breaking free. Golem threw the pokémon into a far home with a great crash, the flame-chewed structure burying the fire pokémon.

Tracey and Marill were shocked. _Woah_… they thought, amazed at how easily Melissa had defeated the League trainer. Snapping out of it, they darted over to the children.

Golem hung back, knowing his meaty hands would more likely harm the humans than help them, letting Melissa massage the smoke from the girl's lungs. Tracey ducked down and followed suit on her brother. The girl coughed but didn't wake.

"You think your Venonat could give us more specific directions next time?" Melissa snapped, moving on to the other boy. Marill nudged the girl with the spherical end of her tail. "They were hiding under a bed." She had found the two boys shielding their younger sister with their bodies, as testified by their blackened clothes.

Tracey spared her an annoyed glance, before looking up the street. He didn't see anyone except the red-garbed corpse. His Venonat was in its pokéball at his side – there was no way Tracey was sending the bug out to fight a Torkoal. "Be thankful he detected anyone at all. I'm surprised there's people alive at this point."

Coughs erupted from the chest of the boy Tracey was massaging. The Orange Islander lifted his fingers as the child opened his eyes.

"Wha…?" He said, disoriented. Fixing his bleary eyes on Tracey, he drawled. "Who…?"

"Shh," Tracey said with soft eyes, squeezing the boy's shoulder comfortingly. "It's alright, it's alright."

The boy drifted out of consciousness again. Marill's ears pricked up and looked up at her master nervously.

"Ma… marill." She said. Tracey looked to Melissa who set her jaw. The fires were growing, the smoke was filling the air and Lost Gym-members were scattering through the streets. Things were getting bad – they couldn't stumble around hoping to save whomever Venonat lucked out in detecting.

Melissa stood and indicated for Golem to pick up the boys, which he did without protest. "We need to get out of this city. It's all gone to hell."

Sketchit pulled the girl into a piggyback carry and stood up too. Marill scooted around his feet, as though she could catch the girl if Tracey dropped her. He nodded over at a tiny stretch of the horizon that wasn't blazing red.

"The fires don't seem so strong over there."

Melissa got her pistol at the ready in case they ran into more Leaguers and led the march. "It's our best bet. Let's bail."

-- --

Magmar punched a foundational column, keeling it over into a stonewall. The wall exploded, showering Vileplume below with debris. Vines cracking, she managed to sweep aside the worst of it, but left herself exposed in the process. The fire pokémon leapt from on high and landed heavily nearby, spewing flames.

Vileplume spun and rolled, but couldn't save one of her vines being burned off. Focussing her energy, the grass pokémon seemed to split into dozens. Surrounding Magmar in a circle, each painfully similar Vileplume had a look that suggested they would make a break for it at the first chance.

Sighing at yet _another_ the use of the 'Double Team' technique, Magmar reached for a long fallen girder. Swinging the huge chunk of melting steel, he swept away a group of the illusions, failing to hit the real deal.

The point soon became moot, as a single Vileplume sprung back, spraying some sort of powder into the air. Magmar wasn't about to wait and see what type, and, dropping the girder, took a deep breath. He blew out fire like a fountain, igniting the airborne spores.

He averted his eyes from the bright flash and sharp sound, and turned back to see Vileplume already running. Snarling angrily, Magmar gave pursuit, passing by the two pokémon's battling masters.

Erika's strategy had turned to one of controlled retreat. All her techniques specifically developed to fight fire-types may have worked against a lesser Fire Master, but she was fighting with Blaine, Leader of the displaced Cinnabar Gym, condemned to burn through the land, consuming all in his path and leave only ruin. He couldn't be beaten by simple tricks, least of all by a Grass Master.

Stepping across a husk of a doorframe, Erika drew Blaine's flailing censor-weapon into wrapping around the frame. This bought the Green Knight precious moments to fall back several more steps while Quizmaster tugged to untangle his chain.

_Not far now…_ she assured herself. She was bruised, burnt and exhausted, but she had a plan. She hadn't been so stupid as to let Rebels dump weapons in her city without monitoring where. Leaves and trees might wither before Blaine's heat, but a bullet through the head over-rode any type-advantage.

The weapon storehouse she had in mind was the next building over. Now all she needed to do was navigate the flames and not alert Kindler to her intentions. She took a step back and almost into the fire.

"Woah!" She cried, pulling her foot back sharply.

Blaine saw his chance and lashed out his flaming chain with a low attack.

"Advice: Eyes front!" He cried as the chain wrapped around her ankle and tripped her over. In some sort of miracle, Erika slammed a hand down on the ground, jarring her shoulder, and avoid the flames around her. With the other hand, she waved one of her sickles wildly, which prevented the levelheaded Blaine from following up.

Instead, he began to drag her slowly towards him. Erika tried to dig her sickles into the ground and fight back, but Blaine was too strong, causing the blades to drag trenches in the ruins.

"Recognition: The Green Knight," The tall moustached man said with a smile, dragging her ever closer. "Tea Warrior, Culler, Eden-Tender." A strange light struck his sunglasses. "Question: Where is your Eden now?"

She didn't want to think about it - instead, she plucked her sickles from the ground and jack-knifed to her feet. Before Quiz-Master could tug her from her feet again, Erika stomped down with her free foot and trapped the long chain. Digging the tips of her blades down the side of her leg, she pulled herself free and darted back to reclaim some of the ground she missed.

If this setback fazed Blaine, he didn't show it. He simply wound up his weapon and started swinging it again, ready for another attack.

Down in the cracked street, Vileplume darted around the piles of fire and rubble. He slipping in and out slowed her as the pursuing Magmar barged through all obstacles, unmindful of flame or pain. As the red frilled beast closed, Vileplume spun as she ran, flinging a set of razor-sharp leaves.

Magmar artfully dodged the attack while maintaining forward momentum, leaving the blade-leaves to cut perfectly through concrete and steel. Nozzle-mouth quirking in his version of a sneer, the fire-type crashed through a stack of blackened timbers, seeing Vileplume on the other side of a blazing flame. The leaf-haired pokémon had stopped to face him for some reason.

He found out when she blasted a cloud of Stun Spore at him – _through _the flames.

Covering his eyes to shield from the explosion, Magmar turned back. Vileplume was gone; in her stead was a hole, burrowed through the cracked concrete. Careening through the flames, Magmar grabbed futilely into the hole in hopes of latching onto a leafy appendage and dragging his foe out - but no such luck.

"Mag!" He cursed, standing up cautiously, serving the melting surroundings. He had no idea that Vileplume knew how to dig – now there was no way to know when she'll strike. Worse, she might have escaped, leaving him responsible for another weak grass type populating the world.

Stepping gently to minimise vibrations the subterranean plant might detect, Magmar slowly edged away from the hole. His eyes darted over every clear patch of ground. There was a chance…

A sudden rumble right beneath him shook the red pokémon's balance, and the street exploded as the round Vileplume burst up and head butted his jaw. Magmar recoiled in pain and blew fire wildly, leaving Vileplume the chance to bounce back down the hole and out of sight. Mastering the inferno streaming from his nose/mouth, Magmar rubbed his chin with a wince.

But he had a victorious glint in his eye. In that one shot, Vileplume had given away her weakness.

Circling softly again, Magmar kept his flaring excitement within in anticipation for the moment. It came faster this time – he felt the slowed shaking of the earth at his foot. The extra few moments Vileplume needed to sprout through the concrete was all he need to slip back. The grass-type shot up from underground right into his waiting arms.

With hardly a chance to discern what went wrong, Magmar spewed the fire within all over her frightened face. He didn't stop till she was nothing more than ashes in his hands.

-- --

It wasn't working. She was too tired, to beaten to make it back in time, not with Cinnabar's lost Gym-Leader dogging her every step. Erika had given up hope of making it into the weapons cache, not twenty metres behind her. Still unsure who was the traitor – him or her – The Green Knight decided to pitch forward with a final attack.

_It's now or never_, She thought, pulling a strand of sweat-heavy black hair from her eyes with the tip of her sickle. _Goodbye, my dreams_.

Spinning on her heel, she bent under a sweep of Blaine's flaming ball-and-chain, and lifted a melting sickle to meet the counter-swing Kindler folded into her. As the bronze links wrapped around the curved weapon, she pulled it down, drawing the chain taunt. Blaine instinctively pulled back, and Erika added the inertia to her own as she launched forward to ram the second sickle into the Fire Master's gut.

Unfortunately, Erika was a small woman, and Blaine was thirty kilograms and several feet her superior. He let go of his chain and used his longer reach to grab her attacking arm. Then he slammed a meteor-strike knee into the Celadon Gym-Leader's torso.

What followed was a savage outpouring of violence, of which the battered Erika could only discern _blood_, _pain_ and _stones_. All the wildness that Blaine had kept pent up inside seemed to blaze free now, and where a man might have stopped, he continued on punching and grinding. Erika's body crumbled under his hunger to reduce her to nothing.

He tired, however, and stopped to look down at his victim. Amazingly, she was still alive, gargling blood and unable to move save to spasm. Eyes and mouth invisible beneath sunglasses and moustache, he raised his foot and silently drove it down on her throat.

Erika's body was too broken to even fight back properly. Her head forced back by the dirty boot, she saw the munitions dump so close, haloed in fire. Through the tears and black spots she could see her beautiful Celadon, her beautiful, hopeless play at paradise, burning down.

_The League. The League did this…_ ran through her head.

"Why?" She choked out through the things clogging her throat. She was blind from tears or asphyxiation. "Why?"

This was one question Quizmaster did not to answer.

Blaine pressed until her pathetically struggling body twitched its last and fell to rest. During this time, his trusted Magmar returned, presumably having killed the woman's pokémon. Finished, Kindler turned to the fire-type.

"Orders: Proceed onto the rest of the city." He said levelly, the only hint of his previous barbarity the splashes of blood on his fists and face. "Warning: Watch for…"

Blaine knew fire - he spent so much time around it. He intimately loved every crackle, every snap of feeding flames. That was why, over the raining sound of the encasing inferno he could hear something that wasn't of fire – the clicking of a rifle.

He and his pokémon broke immediately for cover, narrowly missing a blast of heavy bullets into the ruins where they stood. Keeping low, he glanced around fallen bricks to identify his attacker.

On top of the near building, towards which the Green Knight had been falling back – it was a tall lithe man with a flaring head of brownish-red hair. He had a cut across his chest and an AK-47. A wounded Eevee was at his feet.

"Demand:" Blaine shouted, gathering up his chain-weapon. "Identify yourself!"

There was no answer, and after a stretch, Insatiable dared another look. The newcomer had descended and was now approaching Erika's corpse. The man was obviously distracted, but it was not yet time to attack – not when he had that rifle in hand. Blaine sent a signal to Magmar to sneak quietly into a stronger position.

Gary looked down at the hardly-recognisable body in front of him. He'd seen women abused horribly, but this was the image to crown them all. Something stirred in his stomach, a nauseous mix of anger and grief. They had only met once, but in that one time Erika had bared a piece of her frail soul to him, and that was a very valuable thing.

Tearing his eyes from Erika's body, he searched for that bastard Blaine. Anyone who did this to a woman was going to get it back in spades. Gary's eyes hovered over the pile of bricks that the Fire Master had dived behind, but he let them move off. He could be anywhere by now.

Eevee was sniffing at the body. The dog realised that she was dead and moaned, rubbing respectfully against her arm. Gary glanced at his pokémon.

"Hey Eevee, you're too injured to fight." He said, reaching for a pokéball. Eevee would need to be in top condition to fight this Magmar. "Make sure no one gets in the way."

The dog looked offended by the comment. He bounced on his feet a few times and thrashed his tail to prove he was still strong.

"Eee!"

"Argue later." Gary growled. He was pretty grilled up about what had happened to Erika. The dog grumbled and bounded off while his master opened a pokéball. Soon enough he had Nidoqueen lumbering over the other side of Erika.

"Question: Who are you?" Came a voice from Gary's left. He turned to answer.

"Gary Oak." He said simply.

Blaine's voice shot out from somewhere behind cover. There was a flash of a white coat and Gary's rifle flew to meet it – but Oak caught his finger before it fired the wasteful shot.

"Ahh, question then: do you think the League has been unaware of your movements?"

Oak nodded at Nidoqueen, who slammed her foot on the ground with such force that the rubble shook in a small earthquake. The cover fell; Blaine wasn't there.

Gary drew his sword and held his two weapons akimbo. He shouted into the circling flames. "Question: Do you think I care?"

--- -

_This kid's getting heavy._ Tracey mentally complained. Her oldest brother had woken up, and was now walking with the party, gripping onto Tracey's shirt like a kid half his age. The watcher wasn't sure how he felt about, between himself and Melissa, appearing the most mothering.

Marill was scouting ahead, making use of her small size to check around corners for League soldiers or blocked paths. Golem waddled casually behind with the other brother, content to follow his master.

"The fires are smaller around here." Melissa suddenly noted. Tracey looked and saw it too.

"Yeah. It's cooler too." Cool enough that he could feel the sweat caking his shirt and headband. The boy holding him looked up, and Tracey smiled down. "It looks like we're going to be alright."

A street-rumbling growl shook the concrete, and they all exchanged worried looks. Looking ahead to the clearer horizon, they saw the distinct shape of an Onix tower over the low buildings. It was fighting off some Charizards, which had started flocking to their destination.

Watching towers of water spurt up at the sky as a sort of aerial defence, Tracey's concern deepened.

"That's got to be our guys." He said, judging by the way the Lost Gym Charizards were attacking. "We need to help them!"

"It's definitely Brock's Onix. Let's move; double time!"

The boy was too frightened to leave, and they all hurried. The girl was making his arms and legs sore, but Tracey bit into the pain and kept pace. Not a League trainer was to be found, and this part of the city had been effectively hosed down, so progress was quick and smooth.

Coming to an open space, Tracey and Melissa saw a sweet sight – Brock and Misty, fighting both the League Charizards and the fire. What's more, they saw a Nurse Joy looking after the wounded and civilians.

The boy knew what to do immediately – he took his sister from Tracey (she was almost too heavy for the boy) and went with Golem and his brother to the small moving hospital. He turned over his shoulder with a silent look that said so much more than 'thanks' and continued on.

That done, Tracey and Melissa raced to their comrades' sides.

"Tracey? Mel?" Brock said, seeing the two of them take their places with the trainers who had rallied around the Rock and Water Masters.

"Still in the flesh, thankfully." Tracey said, pointing at a diving red dragon for Marill to blast.

"Mel, could you do me a favour and _shoot those things?!_" Misty yelled. She looked very stressed, so the Pewter trainer obliged and shot at the pokémon circling above. Tracey was handed a carbine and joined in.

Thankful for more ground support, Misty ran her hands through her orange hair and begun directing her entourage of pokémon.

"Seadra, Gyrados, Hydro Blast!" She yelled one way. "Starmie, Azurill, aim at the base of the fire!" She yelled the other. "Blastoise! Uh… just keep it up!"

The giant blue turtle seemed to take personal pleasure in blasting Charizards from the sky. He'd racked up quite a tally – at least six so far, all of which lay in a drowned heap across the field.

Brock shot off a few instructions too. Onix and Crobat were defending Nurse Joy's relief camp, while his other pokémon used their strength to pile dirt up on the flames. With the inferno slowly being choked, their problems were limited to the swarm of angry fire dragons.

Despite the relative ease at which things were on this front, everyone knew they couldn't keep it up forever. They had to edge out of the city, otherwise they'd tire or the fire would overwhelm them. There had to be a break-through.

Misty glanced instinctively into the flaming bowels of Celadon. There used to be a time when she attributed doing the impossible to only one man, but there was someone else now who could turn this nightmare into a dream.

"Gary, where are you?" she whispered, before noticing Azurill aiming too high and yelling at it.

-- --

Grunting with effort, Blaine manipulated his chain violently, swinging it hard at Gary. Instinctively, the tall target raised the guard of his sword, the fiery flail wrapping around the base of the blade securely. The bald Fire Master pulled hard to disarm his opponent, but Gary held his blade fast.

Seeing Gary raise his rifle, Blaine ducked behind remains of the corner of the brick ruins in which they were fighting. He used the structure to lever his pull, tugging the sword from Gary's hand, and swinging it wildly.

The sword-ended chain crossed in front of the Pallet trainer's face.

"Damn!" Gary cursed, rolling to avoid his own weapon. Hugging the ash and bricks, he kept his AK-47 trained carefully on Blaine's position in case a shot appeared.

Pushing into a low crouch, the burgundy-haired duellist tried to round on Quizmaster's hiding spot, but Blaine's seemingly random flinging proved anything but, and Gary had to spring behind a rock to avoid the edge of his European sword.

Over Erika's body, which acted as a sort of border between the two combats, Magmar and Nidoqueen fought hand-to-hand. A whistling roar blew from Blaine's red pokémon nozzle mouth as he burst forward. His fist ignited into flame as he aimed for Nidoqueen's throat.

His surprise was great when the large pokémon grabbed his fist, her stony skin impervious to the burning.

"Mag?" He uttered, before Nidoqueen pulled him and smashed him into a nearby concrete slab. The slab shattered like glass.

Nidoqueen, of a naturally aggressive breed, followed up without hesitation with a great pound, kicking up a cloud of grey concrete dust.

That attack kept the fiery pokémon in check for a moment, so Nidoqueen lifted her fist high and roared. Crème-coloured energy gathered into the gravely claw, and Nidoqueen slammed a mighty, glowing punch down into Magmar, driving the fire-type through the concrete into the ground.

Confident that she'd finished the smaller pokémon, Nidoqueen rocked back, looking down at her handiwork. The raining debris and flying dust settled, revealing the huge crater she'd forced into the earth. At the centre, Magmar was laying still.

Turning to go, Nidoqueen was caught flat-footed as the volcano-born pokémon jumped up and spat a huge fire blast into her face. She fell back, leaving Magmar the chance to spew a stream of flames over her hard body. The ground-type made a futile attempt at swiping the fire from the air, and Magmar advanced relentlessly, melting his foe's formidable defences.

Internally, he was laughing.

_Mag!_ He thought. _Mag-maar!_

-- --

Eevee had circled his comrade's fights so as to keep an eye on their progress. He slipped over the burning rubble, searching for plundering Lost-Gymmers.

It wasn't fair. His injures weren't that bad. He totally could take that Magmar. Totally.

"Ee!" The fluffy little dog complained to the smoke. He kicked a stone in frustration – it flew clean through a wooden pylon.

Unfortunately for Eevee's entertainment, there were none of the Cinnibar Irregulars around. Even they weren't immune to the blaze, it seemed. The pokémon watched the fire suck at the ruins that were once Celadon's green streets. In fact, the only building still standing within view was that sturdy-looking one Erika had been backing towards.

Even though it was currently crowned with flames, Eevee decided to investigate what was inside. He bounded from rock to rock and came to the entrance. Nudging open the door with his nose, the dog glanced inside. What he saw shocked him.

This was apparently one of the Resistance weapon dumps. It was filled to the brim with guns, ammo and explosives. Gunpowder everywhere. Eevee's eyes went wide. This building, which was currently about to burn down…

Oh…

This was not good.

He galloped immediately towards Gary, crying out warnings.

"Eeee!" He screamed. "Eeeeeee!"

-- --

Gary had had just about enough of this. As Blaine swung his sword for another pass, he lashed out and snatched his sword up from the air. Gary could almost see the surprise on Blaine's face as he tugged at his chain, wondering why it wouldn't move, and took the chance to kick high and bring his foot down.

Insatiable was pulled unceremoniously from behind cover, leaving him wide open to be shot.

Gary plugged him a few, staining the tall moustached Gym Leader's white coat red. The bullets passed straight through, leaving the stunned Blaine to sag slowly to his knees. Gary approached, chewing on the situation.

Blaine of Cinnabar. When they had first met, Gary had not realised the island's Gym was still open at first, due to the old man's trickery. That deception had allowed Ash to grab the badge first – one of the two Ash won before him. It was the first time that fate had allowed his contemporary to pull ahead.

Looking at the dying old bastard now, Gary found one side of his brain beating this fact into him, while the other merely strung up a picture of Erika's purple and red body. He didn't even think when he raised the gun again.

He fired again, a long burst. The shots struck dirty this time, tearing flesh from Blaine's thin frame, sending the Quizmaster to the ground in a pool of red. Gary was about to shoot again, but his finger wouldn't let him. No wound on Blaine could heal any on Erika.

Gary didn't look when a set of crushing steps approached, but did when a red body was thrown near Kindler's. It was his Magmar – dead or whatever, it clearly wasn't getting up again.

Swearing to thank Nidoqueen later, when his jaw wasn't fused shut, Gary called his pokémon back into her pokéball. He was about to go look for Eevee when Blaine surprised him by spitting a fountain of blood up, invisible on his crimson shirt.

"Qu… Question:" The hardy old man forced out. There was a wry smile beneath his moustache. "Is there a life after death?"

Kindler went silent and still, leaving Gary to wonder what answer he got. Looking tiredly up at the black smoke, Gary lingered a soulful moment. There was no way for him to have known that from above, the circle of Celadon looked like a giant Volcano badge.

His reverie was clawed down when Eevee charged in, shouting and making a fuss.

"What?" Gary cried in alarm. He turned to see the walls of the weapon cache crack and fall down, allowing fire to pour in. "The guns!"

Blaine proved himself not dead yet by laughed uproariously, and Gary dived to cover Eevee.

"Get do-!"

He was cut off when the dump exploded in a huge fireball, cutting out the fire. Concrete and steel went flying, breaking up the surroundings. Gary saw pink.

-- --

Lorelei glanced to the side when she heard the huge explosion. Her eyes darted back as Lance took the opportunity to change cover, riding on his Dragonite. She fired, and so did Jynx, but it was pointless – ever since the Dragon Master reunited with his pokémon, the tides of battle had changed.

The street was now a shallow pool, small icebergs drifting down its weak current. Buildings had fallen, holes from loose hyper beams valleyed the street. Lorelei's expensive imported suit was soaked - she was starting to feel things were getting out of hand.

_But I still have firearms_. She reminded herself, remembering that it was Lance ducking from hiding spot to hiding spot with nothing better than a long stick to fight with. _As long as I have ammunition, I hold the advantage._

Her musings were cut off by another explosion, closer. She looked up, suspicious. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw the top of Lance's black hair twitch at the sound too.

Had the first explosion set off another? It would be bad for her if a chain reaction was set off…

Another blast. And another. Lorelei adjusted her glasses, and then turned to finish off Legend-Stalker. He had taken the opportunity to make good his escape. She snarled and looked down at a worried Jynx to scold it for letting the Rebel escape.

Then there were another four explosions in short succession. Lorelei decided to bail.

-- --

"What's going on?" Officer Jenny asked, watching the Charizards turn and flee. Apparently those closing detonations didn't sound good to them either.

Misty grabbed Brock, who was keen for 'victory celebrations' with the blue-haired Jenny, and looked at the huge following she had gathered. "I don't know, but I think we need to evacuate the city, _now._"

"How?" Protested Melissa. "That's seven miles through the fire. We've got to take it slow."

"There is no time for 'slow'." Sabrina declared, appearing suddenly behind Tracey. She had her stout, chitinous Alakazam with her. "Everyone join hands."

This was a weird request from an even weirder lady who had just teleported in the midst of them, so it was forgivable that most gathered didn't immediately comply. Misty knew a way out when she saw one, and clapped her hands with authority.

"Everyone join hands now!"

Hesitantly, everyone present and their pokémon reached out and touched each other. Sabrina and her Alakazam did so too, needing to combine their power to teleport so many people at once. As the two psychics gathered power, Misty leant over.

"What about Gary?" She asked from the corner of her mouth. "And Lance?"

"I don't know." Sabrina stated in a distant tone. Those words were doubly concerning coming from her lips. "But we are going!"

In a white flash, they were finally pulled from the belly of Celadon's hell.

-- --

Janine was on top of one of the largest skyscrapers in Saffron – so tall that it lanced through the canopy of fog to reveal the beautiful night sky and its glimmering full moon. Sitting over on the edge, dangling her feet over brown oblivion, she watched distant Celadon burn.

The ninja was resting, having spent her evening killing the appropriate witnesses to the Rebellion party that had passed through here a few days ago. None had proven any great challenge to kill, even the acting leader of Saffron, Kiyo the Fighting Master. He may have been a world-class martial artist with worshipful skill, but five different kinds of instant-death poisons administered from three different sources was not something one could punch away.

A few had skipped town, but if Lorelei proved that concerned, she'd order Janine to track them. For now, she could relax and gaze in the flickering orange on the horizon.

There was a white flash behind her, which made her heart jump, but she kept her cool and was determined not to be caught off-guard this time.

"You sure travel around a lot." She said, forcing a casual tone.

Will smiled that greasy smile of his and came up beside her. He was standing very close. "Well, they do call me Argonaut."

The strangest thing was happening to Janine. For some reason, she couldn't pull her purple eyes away from Will's jaw line, or the way his long wavy hair fell across it. Her eyes drifted and to note the academic tones to his skin, and the way his cheek folded when he smiled, and…

Her study of the psychic's appearance was cut short when the steadily burning Celadon exploded. Will and Janine watched enraptured as the city was torn apart by popping flares. It was beautiful at this distance, like fireworks.

Then all at once there was a huge, citywide blast, hurling debris high into the smoke. Almost feeling the heat where they were, the pair couldn't stop themselves leaning back in awe, unconsciously closer to each other. Then Celadon's flames seemed to collapse, perhaps because everything had been burnt up.

"Wow." Whispered Janine. "That was something else."

"It sure was." Said Will, who made no attempt to move out of their sudden proximity.

Little did either know that they were being watched by the only ninja in the world better than Janine. In the deep shadows, Koga forced his secretly chaperoning eye from the couple and on to the now black city, wondering if his quarry was dead.

_Unlikely_, he mused, keeping sharp eyes on Will's hands as he gave Koga's daughter a 'friendly' hug. _The Heavens won't allow it._

-- --

The high-energy night was followed by a bleary morning. Celadon smouldered, black and dirty with ash. The smell of smoke and burnt flesh sat heavily over the ruins, and the scene looked to the scavenging Murkows like a giant dead camp fire.

Amid the rubble, some steel poles shifted, disturbing some of the black birds. The poles were sent tumbling down by a hard kick from the other side, revealing the blackened, weary form of Gary Oak. He staggered out with no strength in his legs, Eevee swaggering behind. The little dog looked around the red sunrise, wondering how they could have survived.

In the haunting silence there was an unnatural noise, and in a flash of white, Eevee saw Sabrina appear, still in her haggard pyjamas. The pokémon was the only living thing to see the look of relief on her normally impassive face when she saw them alive, and he couldn't help but smile weakly back.

The dog glanced behind to see Gary stumbling the opposite direction, blind to the world. Sabrina was about to announce her presence but saw the Pallet trainer's strange mood and stayed herself for the moment.

Gary could feel the ghosts crowd around him, their quiet, invisible glares asking 'why did _he_ survive and not me?'. He swung his weak hands, tried to back them up, but they couldn't be touched by him.

_I don't know, I don't know_, he tried to say, tripping and hitting the black ash ground. It was just like Mount Moon… Bruno was there, his unseen, hulking mass standing silently over him. Agatha, frailly seated in her chair, was watching at a distance with a black smile on her crevassed lips – Gary could almost see her.

Looking up, Gary could see the full moon, still retreating down towards the horizon. Low like this, it was almost as if it had descended to eye-level with him, willing to match his raging glare.

His hands felt around, finally settling on a chipped piece of rock, or a fragment of cement. Pushing himself up with the last of his strength, he threw the rock pathetically at the moon before falling again.

"Is this so funny?!" he screamed at the pokémon beyond the stars. "Is this so damn funny?!"

-

-

**Author's notes:**

Sorry this took so long. I've had things to do – plus this got pretty darn long. Almost 15,000 words! I didn't want to break it up, but I had to…

I got kind of uncomfortable writing this – the idea of people burning to death does that to me. It's a horrible way to die. And serious burns suck big time.

I love the idea of Houndoom vs Eevee. It's a dog eat dog world!

I was going to make the Torkoal trainer a named character from the show, but in the end… meh.

Do you massage smoke from lungs? How did that explosion start all those other ones? I don't know – work with me people!


	11. The Flipside

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Pokémon. If I did, I'd be rich. But I don't, and I'm not, so please don't sue me Nintendo.

-

**Grasping the Moon**

Chapter 11 – The Flip Side

Misty leant back and emptied the last dregs of her orange juice down her throat and rubbed her eyes. Gazing out over the ocean from her position on top of the low cliff, she sighed and stood up. Tightening the blanket someone had draped over her shoulders for the shock, Misty made her decision.

_May as well get back there and face up to it_, she advised herself, leaving the cool, pleasant sea breeze. She climbed up over the shrub and passed through the thin strip of forest into the Celadon outpost. It was like walking through a curtain – she was immediately hit with sound and buzz. The small watch-post was currently spilling over with people and pokemon, those lucky enough to escape from Celadon's scolding fate.

She walked invisible through the thick makeshift camp. Some people were huddled together for silent comfort, other were running up and down shouting for lost loved ones. Some were cry from loss, fear, or at the sheer magnitude of what had happened.

"First Mount Moon and now Celadon…" she heard one Ranger say to another. "Will there be anything left of Kanto before the month's out?"

Chewing on that confronting thought, Misty pushed her way through some Rebellion troops who had been keeping rabble at bay. They let her through, recognising her, and she picked her way through the piles of salvaged goods they had found. Lance was out at ground zero with as many men as he could spare, shifting through the rubble for anything of use that could be found. Misty wasn't sure how much Legend-Stalker would salvage.

The sound of someone searching through the plunder caught Misty's attention. She turned in time to see Snap pull a cigarette lighter from one of the mounds.

"I see you made it out." She noted as he lit up. "I don't really care, but how?"

Smirking hatefully, the photographer-come-sniper sat apathetically on the loot. "I cleared out that night before it all went down."

Misty was stunned. "What?" She gaped. "How did you know?"

"Bought the info off Team Rocket." He replied, pointing behind the redhead. She looked and saw the three villains burst from among the amassed goods, looking by a long margin the most chipper people within ten miles of Celadon.

"We had it on special." James advised, a disgustingly merry look on his mug – almost distracting Misty from the fact he was sneaking some wallets into his pants. "Seemed fair, what with it being life and death and all."

Fuming, Misty let her blanket fall to the ground as she grabbed the blue-haired fop by the collar.

"You didn't tell anyone?!" She cried, shaking James violently. He squealed. "You could have saved hundreds!"

Jesse dismissed such a clear act of do-goodery. "I can't expect a twerpette like you to understand the finer details of economics." She said, completely unconcerned that James' brain was bouncing around his skull. Persian licked himself with equal lack of concern.

"That's just… that's…" Misty could not put into words how evil she thought that was, and settled for grounding her teeth. Wheeling suddenly, she released James and pointed accusingly at Snap. "Why didn't _you_ tell us?!"

He merely shrugged. "I deal in death, not information. Not my industry."

The only reason that Misty didn't burst out in a fit of violence was that she was too tired and worn out. Spinning again, she snapped up her blanket and stormed off.

"Get out of my sight, all of you!" She yelled, stamping heavily. Team Rocket giggled and waved.

"Wid pleasure." Announced Persian, getting to all fours. "We're off anyway."

"No money here." Jesse proclaimed.

"Not a dollar in sight!" Added James, standing awkwardly and woozy from his Misty-shaking.

Misty wasn't paying attention as the trio disappeared, as she was completely wrapped up in how angry she was with them. She pulled her blanket tight, as if forcing the rage within, but it only focused it. She might have broken something if she hadn't been distracted.

She saw Eevee, mulling around the log wall of the camp, lacking his usual energy. Forgetting Snap and Team Rocket and their sins of omission, Misty glanced around for the pokémon's master, whom she was seeking. Not seeing him, Misty approached the dog.

Coming closer, she noticed bandages wrapped around the dog. Things must have been pretty tough for the two of them in there if even Eevee had been injured. The dog noticed her and came over, tail wagging. She bent over and rubbed him behind the ears.

"Hey boy, where's Gary?" She asked. Eevee pointed his nose upward. Eyebrows raised, Misty followed the pokémon's look.

There was Gary, sitting on the top of the high log fence. He looked so right up there, higher than the common man, above all their petty concerns. It was like Ash high on Indigo Plateau, overlooking all Kanto.

Gary was staring into space into the West. Misty smiled, though it felt like a frown. His eyes were stuck on the Plateau.

She rapped on one of the logs he was seated on, and he noticed the vibration, looking down. Misty smiled a realer smile up at him.

"Cleared your head yet?" She asked. He smiled and _jumped_ down. Misty yelped and made to catch him, but they collided and fell into a graceless mess, to Eevee's considerable amusement.

Lying across her lap, Gary gave her a look. "I was fine, thanks."

"Get off me." Was her gruff reply.

They got to their feet and tried to ignore Eevee's snickers. Misty watched the taller man brush himself down, and opened her mouth to tell him.

"See anything interesting up there?" Was what came out of her mouth instead, confusing her greatly.

Gary laughed through his nose. "I saw Brock with a bunch of girls on the other side of the wall." Misty groaned.

"He's probably trying to take advantage of their emotional trauma…" She muttered, massaging her temple. Gary seemed bemused at the Rock trainer's audacity.

"Should we stop him?"

"Definitely."

They made their way through the stockpiles of recovered goods (Misty pointedly ignoring Snap) and past the guards to leave the walled area of the outpost. Walking mostly in silence, Misty would spare the occasional glance up at Gary.

_Why am I so nervous about this?_ She said to herself. _Slow down, heart! I'm _not_ going into cardiac arrest _after_ the danger's over._

Slipping around the scrap shelters and hunched figures, the tall woman took a deep breath. Hesitantly, she started conversation as the lithe man led her to where he saw Brock, hoping that it would organically let her say the words.

"Here's your Blastoise back." She opened, handing over the pokéball. Gary took it appreciatively.

"Hey, thanks."

"You two got out surprisingly well." Misty went on, looking Gary and Eevee up and down.

Gary looked down at his split shirt and pouted at the loss. Other than the fashion disaster, he was black with soot and dotted with minor cuts and bruises – in far better condition than the people Nurse Joy was treating on the other side of the camp. Glancing back at Eevee, who was still at their heels despite having more to dart around, Gary could tell the bandage could probably come off. He shrugged.

"Yeah, alright." Gary said. "Especially since we were so close to the explosions, hey?"

Misty shrugged with her mouth. "Maybe someone up there's looking out for you?" She said, eyes darting heavenward. Gary decided not to respond.

He indicated her blanket with his eyes before climbing up a steep rock. "Chilly?"

"Shock." Misty replied, watching Eevee spring ahead of her up the rock with annoyance. "There's a bit of a chill too."

Knowing she'd refuse an offer of help, Gary watched Misty climb up behind them onto the rock, part of an outcrop that marked the border of the improvised camp. Not far down was a bunch of red-eyed girls huddled together, while a large olive-skinned man whispered comfort as he snaked his arms over as many shoulders as he could.

Sighing, Misty tore off her towel and bounced from rock to rock, twisting it up as she went. Brock didn't see her until she had the towel around his throat.

"Gargulf gurr kuff!" Brock gargled as he was pulled back, which approximately translated to 'Help, I'm being strangled by a mad-woman!'

As she pried Stone-Baron from the stunned women sharing covers, Misty shot them a sugary smile.

"Excuse me a moment."

Releasing her friend, she didn't give him a second to splutter before she latched onto his ear and pulled down.

"Aaaarrrrgh!" Brock protested as he was bent sharply.

"How low can you get, Brock?!" Misty yelled into his considerably lengthened ear. "What the hell's wrong with you?"

"Hey don't be too rough, Misty!" Interjected someone. It was Tracey, who had been sitting with a very green-eyed Melissa on a lower stone. He was laughing. "We were keeping an eye on him."

Taking this into account, the wild girl elected to leave Brock's ear on his head. She wasn't finished though. "I can't believe you were out chasing tail instead of saying goodbye to your friend!"

"Goodbye?" Inquired Gary, who came up, Eevee on his shoulder. Misty let Crumble-Heart collapse to the stony ground in tears and found herself fighting a blush for some reason.

"Um, yes." She started, drawing Melissa's attention as she folded her hands effeminately. "I have to head back to Ash, otherwise he'll suspect something."

Brock fled off the rocky outcrop to sulk, but Gary hardly noticed he was so surprised. "What?"

"He's picking me up from Cerulean tonight. I need to get swimming soon." Following the curve of her hair with her fingers, she looked up to the sun. "Now, actually."

Eevee looked up at Gary, who took the news like a physical blow. His connection with Misty had been so quickly and firmly established that her presence felt permanent. The thought that she was going was a shock – which was a shock of its own.

Seeing Gary's silence, Misty decided to say something while their friends observed with interest. "He's surprisingly punctual, you know."

"Yeah." responded Gary, remembering Ash always arriving to the minute at birthday parties, and getting pout-y when others were late to his.

The disoriented, lost expression on the Pallet Trainer's face was more than Misty was expecting, and she felt the urge to stay. But her ring grew heavy – not as gravity would have, but falling towards Indigo Plateau. Not sure what else to do, she thrust out a hand.

"It's been… good." She said, while Gary slowly clued in that she wanted to shake. He did.

They stayed hand in hand for a while. Misty felt a handshake just wasn't enough and did something that was probably very foolish. She rolled onto her toes (how long had it been since she had to do that to kiss someone!) and pecked him on the cheek.

"Thanks for giving me some of my childhood back." She whispered into his ear before pulling back and wiping the soot from her lips.

Gary was struck dumb and could only stare as Melissa, who had been watching anxiously, darted in and dragged Misty off to exchange hushed dialogue. In his peripheral vision, he saw the grin slide across Eevee's face. "Eeee…" The dog said in a sleazy tone.

Cat-calls erupted from below, Gary turning to see some Resistance soldiers had gathered to stare up him. They needed a light thing to focus on to lift the heaviness of war. Something hit Gary from behind – it was Tracey, putting an arm around him.

"I wish I could get a girl so easily…" Brock moaned, poking his head up from under the rocks. He was still crying.

With all the guys crowding around, Gary could feel a smirk creep across his face and the strange feeling inside subside. "Well," he said with false humility, throwing up his hands. "It's only natural that the girls can't keep their hands off a stud like me!"

Behind this manly display, the girls Brock had been hitting on sat in confusion, their woes momentarily forgotten. While they deliberated on whether to stay or go, some among their number heard a low, distant whistle. Glancing around, the women saw something big and yellow barrelling towards them from the sky.

Crying out, they dove from the elevated rocks, narrowly avoiding the heavy landing of a huge Dragonite. Gary, Tracey and Brock covered their faces from spitting debris, and fixed their eyes on the pokémon's two passengers.

Dragonite gently let Lance down to the ground, and then helped Sabrina while his master ignored the chivalrous thing. The imperially dressed trainer looked over the assembled leaders and narrowed his eyes.

"Where's Erika?" He demanded.

Gary rode on his wave of machismo to wash down the memory of her battered state. "She's dead. I got Blaine though."

The Dragon Master rolled his jaw; clearly weighing up whether this was a fair trade. He seemed to settle on an answer in his mind and moved on. He noticed Misty approach with her Pewter friend.

"Shouldn't you be gone?"

Misty rolled her eyes. "Fine, I know when I'm not wanted." She waved, and all her friends waved back – even Sabrina gave a respectful nod. Lance scoffed.

Indicating for the others to leave with him as Misty headed back to the shore, Lance brought the Resistance leadership through the makeshift camp. He didn't seem to care who heard him as he spoke.

"Most of the weapons are gone." He said simply while the desolate crowds parted before his kingly form. Tracey bit the inside of his cheek.

"I don't suppose Team Rocket gives refunds?" He ventured.

Lance sent him a sharp glance over the shoulder, warning Tracey that he wasn't anyone important and should shut up. "We still have enough for our people, though."

"I checked with the Celadon Rangers," Brock mentioned, suggesting he hadn't just been making a fool of himself flirting _all_ morning. "Most of them want to join up with us, after last night."

Scratching the back of his neck, Lance bobbled his head. "It's better than nothing, I guess."

Sabrina and Lance took the party to a building in the outpost proper, which had been requestioned by the Resistance. Green-cloaked Rangers hovered around outside, wary eyes exchanged with the guards. They passed a pair of Grovyle posted at the door, and as they entered, Gary spoke up.

"And what's the plan exactly?"

Curiously, Lance didn't object to Oak's presence this time, or to Melissa or Tracey's. "Vermillion." Gary should have guessed.

"We need to march now, while the League hopefully thinks we're wiped out." Brock reasoned. Gary and Tracey looked over a map on the table.

"Why Vermillion? Couldn't we cross water and strike through Viridian at the Plateau?"

"We'd be surrounded." Melissa answered, leaning on the wall.

Sabrina floated up beside Gary. "Further, Vermillion is a key city; with Mount Moon destroyed, it is the centralised power source for all of Kanto."

"And it is the major League shipyard – if we take that out we cripple their fledgling navy." Lance said, sitting at the table and fixing Gary with an assessing look.

Gary was surprised and looked to Lance. "What does the League need a navy for?"

"To attack the Orange Islands," Tracey said lowly, drawing Gary's gaze. "Then probably Hoenn too."

"Ah." Was all Gary could say. Things grew quiet as they considered Tracey – a foreigner who was risking his life for a nation that could very well destroy his own. There was no real reason for him to be involved in this war, even if he did know many of the key players. Was he trying to save his archipelago home? Did he know why he was there at all?

Eevee clambered down Gary's arm and stood on the table, walking all over the map. Lance took advantage of the break in silence to lean forward.

"There is another reason we're striking Vermillion." He advised. "You probably remember Lieutenant Surge."

Gary nodded and jiggled his hand. "He was so-so."

Lance's eyes narrowed. "Indeed." He said lowly. "However, he is the only League Gym-Leader with professional military experience, and the Vermillion Gym – the Lightning Strike Force – is the only Gym with legitimate military training."

"In other words, he may not be the best trainer, but his men are the best soldiers." Melissa summarised.

Brock raised a hand like a school kid. "Uh, wouldn't it be better not to fight them, then?"

"The Lightning Strike Force is a unit of shock troops." Sabrina answered, her black hair twisting unnaturally in the air. "It is better to have them on the defensive than allow them to strike us where and when they see fit."

"And they have most of the League guns." Lance added, resting his chin on his hands. "We would be at a significant advantage if we took them and added them to our own arsenal."

Gary smiled, reaching out and rubbing down Eevee's shiny fur. "I get it, just like a pokémon battle – take down the heavy-hitter early and the other guy has no ace to play when the chips are down."

Eyebrow quirking, Lance had to agree, even though he disliked the implication that his strategy might be in a similar style to the League Champion's. Melissa stood up and approached the table.

"So it's settled, right?" She said, hitting the wooden desk with a _thump_. "Let's knock the thunder from the sky!"

-- --

The palace of Indigo City was festooned with old artworks beyond value. In each of its great meeting halls was a marble bust of a famous pokémon master from the past. The entire span of their lives of adventure were carved into a simple stone face, set upon granite stands, sprinkled through the nigh-forgotten halls. Needless to say, each one was priceless.

None of this mattered to Ash, who punched one in rage. As its shattered remains scattered about, he latched hold of the black stand and threw it, denting the wall. He spun and struck the table, making it creak.

"Gone!" He screamed, hitting the heavy oak again. They were in the dark meeting hall near the stadium, with Bugsy posted outside to keep away over-curious ears. "Erika, Blaine, Celadon! All gone!" He met Will's eyes with a fierce look. "They were my _friends_, Will!"

Thought-Poet raised his hands defensively, and averted his gaze from the Champion dark glare. They roved to Pikachu, standing on the desk, trying to check his own fury and thus the electricity churning about his body. May was seated and staring at the table, uncharacteristically contrite.

Seeing the strength of his companions' reactions, Will realised that he should have been shocked by Celadon's destruction. Instead, he had used it as a romantic in with Janine. _Have I really become that detached from my humanity?_ He asked himself, unable to find the strength to stand tall. With nothing to say, the psychic fiddled with his scarf humbly, guarding his mind against the wild emotions of the other three.

May covered her eyes and spoke with a shaky voice. "How could she do this?" She rubbed her gloved hand neurotically. "This… this will be pinned on us. People will say that it was us." Ash collapsed into a chair and put his face in his hands

A streak of lightning loosed from Pikachu, causing Will to teleport a few inches to avoid being sliced like the wall. The yellow rat hissed and burst into a loud rant.

"Pika! Piiika Pi Kachu ka!" he yelled.

"'Where is she?'" Ash translated, without lifting his face.

"Lorelei has withdrawn past Vermillion, waiting to observe the Rebellion's next move." Will answered, grabbing the opportunity to finish his report. "The remanents of Cinnabar's Lost Boys have been taken in by the Iron Guard as auxiliaries. Jasmine has put them to work in her forge-pits." Drawing a deep breath, Saffron's Gym-Leader prepared to deliver the bad news. "As for the survivors… Boss, no Rangers or civilians have reported to League authorities yet."

May moaned and rolled back in her seat, but Ash didn't move. All he was hearing in his head was: _My pokémon are disobeying me. They don't respect me. I'm not strong enough._ He had to get stronger; that way, his pokémon would respect him, and if they respected him, they would love him, for Ash knew that love and respect were practically the same thing.

"We can overcome this." He said suddenly, drawing everyone's attention. Lifting his eyes he looked at each of his friends in front of him. "Together, we can overcome anything." He assured. May reached out with her hand, but Ash patted it instead of taking it. Looking to Will, he asked: "Why did she do this?"

Will knew all too well. "It was a calculated move, the beginning of a play for leadership." He explained dutifully, removing his glasses and cleaning them. "She's trying to contrast the effectiveness of her hard-line, merciless policies against your inability to catch the Rebels."

Ash's mouth twitched at the criticism of his efforts, but forced himself to listen without interruption for the good of everyone. Pikachu piped up again and spurted a shock of thunder at Lorelei's blue sculpted seat at the table, causing it to explode. Will didn't need a translation.

"Attacking her would be a disaster." Fair-Tongue advised, replacing his spectacles. "If we did that, then we'd be admitting that there's division within the League – which is exactly the sort of anarchy we set it up to avoid. The people won't like it."

"Pika-pika…" Pikachu muttered in a low tone, remembering the horrors of the first wars. Advertising division would be like giving the Rebellion Kanto on a platter.

May hugged herself with a dark grimace. "And if we accused her, she'd just palm it off back onto us."

"Or make us look incompetent." Will continued. "She's got us, for now."

"There _will_ be punishment." The Chosen One announced, with a steel voice. "Blaine has already received his. As for Lorelei, we need her for now to hunt Brock and his Rebels." He stood suddenly, dark cape bouncing. "Right now I need to pick up Misty and get ready for tonight."

Will and May exchanged a glance at the mention of the 'queen' of the League. The Champion didn't notice and rolled his shoulders.

"We'll get her." He assured, though Will suspected he was saying it to himself. "Her, and Brock, and the Dragon Master." Turning, the Champion began to leave. His face was grim, but he was rubbing it hard, trying to put the darker issues out of mind in preparation for meeting his errant wife. "But right now I've gotta see Misty." Pikachu trailed obediently at his feet, silently seething at Lorelei's treachery.

Watching Ash leave, May felt a hollow feeling in her limbs and chest. She wanted someone to hold her – but with the object of her fixation leaving to collect his wife, she was left to consider lesser options.

As Ash opened the door, May noticed Bugsy lean over and leer at her, an ugly grin on his androgynous face. She shuddered. _Definitely not him_.

Her eyes wondered up to the man nearby, whose eyes were far away. May hugged herself tighter, remembering the psychic hadn't been focussing on her for the last few days. With Will distracted, she was left with the choice of seducing a palace guard or languishing in her quarters alone like usual.

May excused herself, ignoring Bugsy's sleazy come-ons as she left for her room and perhaps some booze, leaving Will to thank the unknown powers that no one had thought to raise the topic of Janine. He wasn't sure what he would have done if they had.

-- --

During the long march, Gary had taken to flipping a coin to pass time. To someone so fabulously rich as Gary, coins had more value as toys than currency, and occasionally as items of reflection. With every step along the seemingly unending journey, he had ample opportunity to look over both sides of this particular coin.

On one side was the portrait of some old king, who had in a bygone era ruled over most of the mainland. It may have been Pokémopolis, Gary wasn't sure – history had never been his strong suit. This monarch's face was fascinating – soft and round, giving him a deceptively innocent appearance.

_Or maybe,_ Gary reconsidered as he rolled the coin in his fingers thoughtfully. _Maybe he really was innocent…_

The other side made the Pallet trainer smile. It was an Eevee, and he had showed the dog on his shoulder when he had first noticed. His Eevee reacted with apathy.

Eevees were great pokémon. Even though his starter had been a Squirtle, Gary kept a special place in his heart for Eevees. Unlike most pokémon, who were forced down a set evolutionary track (if they could evolve at all), an Eevee had choice. They could be anything they really wanted to be – the future was open and unsure for them. An Eevee was free in a very special way.

_There is no fate for an Eevee_, He mused, pocketing the coin. _Only choice._

The sound of retching drew Gary out of his skull, and he saw one of the nearby troops emptying his stomach out on the ground. The other Resistance fighters looked similarly green around the gills, including Tracey, and Gary chose to put more distance between them and him.

"Doing okay there, hey?" He called to Tracey, who waved his hand to communicate either 'I'm fine, I'm fine' or 'Leave me alone you insufferable jerk'.

Gary looked around the poisoned landscape, shaded a sick purple. The ground had been slushed into a thick marsh of pollution, stretching to the horizons. Trees long dead hung limply over the bubbling ooze; slowly melted by toxins until eventually they fell and swelled the bluish mud. An off-colour haze obscured the sky, and gas clogged the air.

Through this deluge, Brock was coordinating a mass digging effort up front, having pokémon burrow a trench through the muck. By avoiding established roads, the army could move undetected. Progress was slow, however, and the conditions nigh-unbearable.

Used to the vile smells, Gary was largely unaffected while the less hardy around him were struggling to distract themselves from the stench. Pokémon using Sweet Scent, perfumes, they tried everything - some had wrapped their own socks around their faces hoping to drown out the less bearable odour from the polluted waste. Tracey had long since attempted to have his Venonat and Scyther blow away the smell with their tiny wings, but to little avail.

Shaking his head, Gary considered the toxic waste. When he had last been in Kanto, the pollution from Vermillion City's power plants had been a major social issue. Clean alternatives were constantly suggested, and plans for dealing with the existing effluence experimented with – but it seems all of that fell to the wayside after the first wars broke out. The waste was much larger than he remembered.

"Looks like they've let things slip, hey?" He said to Eevee, who was coiled around his neck like a boa. The pokémon refused to walk, fearing to touch the rancid ground.

"Eee?" He replied with a confused look. Not being inside Gary's head, Eevee had no idea was he was talking about.

Laughing, Gary explained his thoughts, which the dog met with zero interest. Rolling his eyes, Gary glanced at Tracey, who was too busy keeping his guts inside to notice the brown-haired trainer's presence, let along hold a conversation. Deciding to seek out high command, Gary picked up his pace and slipped through the sickly soldiers, rifle clacking at his back.

He passed obliviously joyous Koffing floating on the fumes, and their larger cousins, Wheezing, drifting behind, their faces contorted in constant pain at their own twisted existence. Small ponds of writhing Grimers feasted on the refuse, while gigantic Muk absorbing the pollution directly into their bodies. All of these poisonous pokémon were so wrapped in the joy of a constant feast that they seemed unaware of the Resistance force digging through their dead sea.

Hurrying passed, Gary saw a Grimer slide up to the vomit a Celadon Ranger had ejected moments earlier and happily added it to its meal. While Eevee looked as though he'd be sick as well, Gary mused that these pokémon might even appreciate the 'additions' made to the waste.

Rocketing by the meandering pace of the troop body, Gary soon came to see the unfortunate pokémon shovelling through the waste, led by Brock's Onix. There were a few bushy Shrifty and other grass-types beside the predominately rock and ground-based diggers, suggesting Brock had enlisted some Rangers to supplement the dwindling numbers of his old Pewter Gym.

Heading for the front, Gary found Melissa stumbling along, her face buried in a wet towel and making a noble effort to stay in march. She waved the Pallet trainer off before he even approached, so Gary obliged her by continuing to the commanders she was guarding.

Brock was fairing very poorly, and had to be dragged along by Snap while he weakly gave orders to the digging pokémon before him. The mercenary somehow managed to have the large tanned Brock over leaning on his shoulder while carrying his long rifle in his other hand.

_I wonder how much extra he's getting paid for that…_ Gary mused, exchanging a glance with Eevee, who had the same thought. The stout Lance was there, who seemed to be the only person as unaffected as Gary was – until the Pallet trainer noticed the wads of tissue stealthily shoved up his nostrils. He noticed the two of them.

"So the tag-along catches up." The short imperial man muttered derisively, and evidently found observing the putrid surroundings more to his taste than conversation with Gary. Chafed, the trainer looked to Sabrina hovering nearby, a faint purple glow around her body and a look of concentration on her face.

_What?_ Gary puzzled over her strange expression until he realised that she was warding off the fumes – and yet because the chemical structure of poisons enhanced psychic energies, she had to keep her use of power very limited. She not only had to avoid detection by League psychics, but make sure that she didn't blow everyone away in a loose mental blast.

It dawned on the prodigious trainer that his conservational options were fairly dim here also. He groaned and found himself missing Misty already.

"Well, it's a party up here, hey?"

Stone-Baron shifted, though whether it was a gesture or an involuntary convulsion, nobody was sure. "Shhhut-uuup…" He drawled, covering his mouth.

Glancing back, Gary and Eevee took stock of all the violently ill Resistance fighters.

"Maybe I'm being pessimistic, but how do we expect everyone to fight in this condition?"

Lance waved the question off. "We have it covered. We'll camp out behind the city and attack tomorrow. They'll be in better shape then."

Gary remained sceptical. "And nobody's going to notice the army parked around back?" Eevee hummed in agreement.

"That's for the Rangers to deal with." Lance advised, indicating some of the Celadon survivors, almost as green as their cloaks. Some had been assigned rifles, clearly ill at ease with gunpowder weapons instead of their traditional bows and arrows.

Pulling his eyes from their new allies, Gary raised a new concern. "And who's going to take out Surge?" He asked, completely unconcerned with the minor details of strategy, like capturing the city.

Brock, who had apparently been listening in, straightened a little. "Well, me of course." He announced weakly. It seemed obvious – the Stone Baron would be practically invulnerable against American Lightning. Gary didn't seem to think so.

"Really?" He said. Lance and Brock sent him questioning looks, while Sabrina maintained concentration and Snap could care less. "Well, Surge isn't the deadliest of foes, and you'd save more lives defending against the lightning of the _Lightning_ Strike Force. Someone else should fight the Gym-Leader."

Lance laughed through his nose, almost dislodging his wads. "And I suppose you mean yourself." He observed, looking away again to fix his nasal filter without anyone noticing.

Gary smiled insolently, and Brock was offended enough to stop and face him, causing Snap to roll his eyes and light up a cigarette. Though balanced tenuously on his feet, Brock glared into Gary's eyes. They both knew that this had nothing to do with saving lives; Gary wanted to fight the biggest and best, and Brock wanted to show off how strong he could be. The real question was which of them was less prepared to sacrifice others for their own strength and glory.

The contest of wills dragged on, Eevee glancing between his master and Crumble-Heart. Gary's hand subconsciously drifted to his longsword, while Brock tensed considerably. Brock finally yielded.

"Fine." He grumbled, leaning back on Snap. The cigarette smoke actually blocked out some of the swamp gas. "I'll lead the main assault, you strike at Surge."

Smirking victoriously, Gary high-fived Eevee's paw, while Lance shook his head at their childishness.

Suddenly, Eevee's ears pricked up, a shivering sensation went up his master's spine, and they both simultaneously glanced at a certain tree among the poison marsh. There was nothing overly suspicious about it, and if it weren't for their intuition they would have looked away. Stopping, they glared at it, as if intimidating the truth from the vision.

Soon the weary soldiers of the rebellion pressed against him, and Gary had to move on, keeping an eye on the tree as long as he was able. As soon as his eyes and those of his pokémon had left the tree for good, something shifted beneath it.

If the carpet of Grimers had noticed him, they would have ignored him as he wasn't food, but this figure was so intimate with toxins and death that he was invisible in this field of desolation. Peering over the Resistance troops, a pair of dark eyes picked out the tall form of Gary Oak.

"I thought I smelled you…" Koga stated in a low, hollow voice, sinking back into the sludge and out of sight.

-- --

The tides and weather had been better than expected, and Misty found herself back in Cerulean with time to spare. This annoyed her, as she could have spent longer with Gary and the others before rushing off. After going through the chaos of dealing with her sisters (who insisted she looked like slept in a bonfire all night – as so looked better than, like, normal!) and deflecting the desperate pleas from Officer Jenny to take back leadership of the Gym, Misty found herself so much at home, that the madness of the night before seemed far off and distant.

Seeking to calm the confusion in her head, Misty went for a swim. The water eased her, the rhythm of each stroke smoothing out the knot in her brain. She wasn't going hard, and soon fell into a light drift, staring up at the blue sky.

Thoughts cropped up unbidden from her sub-conscious. At first they were scenes of horror from Celadon. Burning buildings, burnt people, shooting Charizards from the sky.

_Oh god, they were killed_. She thought, but even her own thought seemed apart from her – the cool water cushioning her against the heat and madness.

Suddenly, an image of Ash leapt up, grinning his foolishly open grin. The trouble was, he had mahogany hair, and a ying-yang necklace over his now grey shirt.

Not even the sea of Cerulean could defend against that cutting picture, and Misty grabbed her temple desperately. _Oh, no no, don't let this happen!_ She internally cried, throwing herself underwater in hopes the impact would drive away the phantom.

Swimming desperately down and away, Misty was forced to come back up for air. She burst from the water, and before she could clear her eyes, something slammed into the water next to her, pushing her back. She rocked across, seeing a human swimming at speed away, in what clearly was a challenge to race.

Never one to back down, Misty immediately pursued. She was well-known as one of the best swimmers in Kanto, and the list of people over-confident enough to challenge her was short. Watching the mystery swimmer power ahead, Misty developed a good idea of who it was, but pushed it from her mind to focus on winning.

The pair raced around the Cerulean gym, looping around to where they began. The challenger's ability to largely maintain his head start more or less solidified his identity to Misty, and she couldn't help a smile pulling her face.

In the end, she was beaten, but hardly fussed considering her competition. As she dragged herself out onto the Cerulean Gym roof, panting heavily, somebody draped her in heavy black fabric.

Misty looked down into warm brown eyes and a stupid grin. Ash finished wrapping his cape around her like a blanket and reached out to run his fingers over the twist of her hair. Having been styled in Beedrill wax, it retained its shape even when wet.

"I like what you've done with it." Ash said appreciatively. Misty saw the soaked hat on Ash's head, and realised that he had swum with it on. There really was no reasonable explanation for why she found that so attractive.

On Ash's shoulder, Pikachu cried out an enthusiastic greeting, and as husband and wife pressed together to exchange a long kiss, the yellow rat scurried over onto Misty's shoulder. The pair pulled apart and Misty smiled down at Ash, who held her with that look. It was the same look he returned to her with every day, which dragged all the hard, dark, unwilled decisions he'd made since parting with her – the look that said that to this man, who had such overflowing love for everything, she was what he loved most.

Bending down and kissing him again, Misty put her hand on his thick chest. "So, what's been happening?" She asked, not thinking the question through.

Ash's expression darkened, but Pikachu answered.

"Pika chu." He said, growling a little. Keeping the cape in place with one hand, Misty reached up and scratched behind his ear, cheering the pokémon.

Smiling faintly at the two in front of him, Ash lent forward, touching his forehead to Misty's nose. "A lot of bad things happened," He said, but lifted his head with excitement. "But I do have good news!"

Misty, who couldn't guess what the news was, waited expectantly. Ash grabbed her shoulders and locked her eyes to his.

"He's here – Gary Oak!"

Her heart clenched. Of course the League would have found out, one way or the other, but she had seen Gary as a secret draw card. Now that Ash knew, his beautiful brown eyes would be trained constantly to any sign of his old rival's presence; and the thought filled her with fear.

She froze up, but Ash didn't notice, so caught up with joy was he. "Gary Oak! Gary Oak!" He cried, ensnaring Misty in a tight hug that emptied her lungs, then kissed her stunned lips.

"Why is this so great?" Misty stammered. "He could kill you!"

Ash laughed loudly. "I know!"

Misty looked at her husband with disbelief, and then noticed Pikachu dancing and singing along beside her face. Her brow tightened in worry – were they both mad?

Abruptly, Ash swept Misty up into his arms, causing his pokémon to fall to the hard ground. Ash laughed harder. "I love you Misty!" He cried, swinging her around in dizzy circles.

The Champion dropped her on her feet so suddenly that she too collapsed to the floor, watching as he then snatched up the miffed Pikachu and held the rat high. "I love you Pikachu!"

Watching in stunned awe from the ground, Misty saw Ash spread his arms out at the flooded city around them, Pikachu scurrying down to hold tightly to his master's shoulder. Ash shouted at into the horizon. "I love you, Cerulean! I love you water, sky! I love every pokémon, person, devil and angel in all the world!"

As this long monologue rose to an ecstatic climax, Misty found herself increasingly fearing that her husband would end off with an earth-shattering 'I love you Gary Oak!'

-

-

**Author's Notes:**

Not an action-packed chapter, but I assume you got enough death and violence from the last two. Mostly politics and plan-laying. Finally Ash is reunited with Misty!

I was thinking about having Gary _et al_ encounter Ash's Muk, or perhaps a giant Muk (Perhaps the same?), but that would have been padding, and I'm sick of stupidly long chapters.

And look, fanart for my own fic : .

Next Chapter – something a little different

**Atrioc:** Wow, such high praise! Yeah, I was really happy with the Ritchie bit. I really glad you're enjoying it. And believe me, I have every intention of finishing.

Please Read and Review! Please…


	12. Brief Interlude from the Past

**Disclaimer**: Come to think of it, this being on makes it pretty bleeding obvious that I don't own Pokémon, doesn't it?

-

**Grasping the Moon**

Chapter 12 – A Brief Intermission from the Past

Pallet Town was in a fit of unbridled joy. The mayor had declared a full week of public holidays, and people flooded to the Oak Residence, where a series of giant pavilions had been raised to accommodate the non-stop celebrations, and cabins assembled on short order to house the horde of out-of-towners, who outnumbered locals three to one. Food spilled constantly from tumultuous kitchens to keep the tables full, and an army of waiters made sure every wine glass was full.

There was cause for such reckless exuberance – Pallet Town, a nowhere place that hardly merited a dot on the map, was now famous. Previously its only claim to fame was the huge Ranch that belonged to the most recognised pokémon researcher on the planet, Professor Oak, but now Pallet boasted two even greater sons.

Ash Ketchum and Gary Oak – not only had both held the title of Pokémon League Champion, they were both the youngest Champions in recorded history. Some commentators claimed it was cruel of fate to have two such shining prodigies appear at one time and thus bar them from their own distinct reigns, but others praised the heavens for allowing them to see such amazing skills pitted against each other.

The people of Pallet didn't care, worshipping their two heroes almost equally. They sat them on two chairs, set high over the crowd inside Oak's Mansion, and surrounded them with press, praise and pleasure. Ash's was set just that little higher though – he insisted it was because he was short. The party rolled for days, without any sign of slowing.

Misty was rather dazzled by the whole show. It was hard to move around inside, as so many pressed and crushed to be close to the town's golden boys. She squeezed behind a tall man with short orange hair.

Hey, isn't that Harrison? Misty thought, as she pushed on. And that's Ritchie…

The pair seemed deep in conversation, and Misty shuffled unnoticed behind Harrison's back, she caught some of their intense discussion. They were loud, shouting above the din.

"…is what everyone thinks – and I've got to agree." Harrison argued, rolling his hand to emphasise his enthusiasm. "Gary plays it by the books, while Ash is unorthodox. That's what gave him that slight advantage."

Ritchie didn't seem to like this thought, and shook his head – still capped despite being indoors. Misty rolled her eyes and decided not to butt in. She loved Pokémon battling, but there were limits. She kept pressing by, holding her drink high to keep it from being bumped.

As she moved on, Ritchie jabbed at the taller Harrison with his soft drink. "Sure sure, it _looks_ that way, but Ash sticks pretty closely to his own rules, and Gary's been known to go a bit crazy sometimes too."

Harrison swapped his drink hands and made his counter-point, but Misty had passed out of audible range. She managed to get to the staircase and a better view of the room. She looked at the raised thrones and saw Ash was gone, though Gary was brooding in his chair, despite the attempts of his all-female fan club to cheer him up.

Sipping her beer, Misty glanced around the room for someone to talk to. It was still only her first drink, as her palette had yet to adjust, but she wasn't going to waste this opportunity. It was alcohol! The drinking age in Pallet was only eighteen, compared to the more prudish twenty-one in Cerulean.

_Thinking of home, there's Violet. _She thought, seeing her blue-haired sister break into Ritchie and Harrison's conversation to flirt wildly with the tall redhead. Her other sisters were also around, flaunting their goods to the most attractive men their age they could find.

_They seem to be having a good time._ Misty mused, taking another hesitant draw of her beer. Suddenly their runty 'cradle-snatching' (even though she totally wasn't!) little sister wasn't so terrible now that she could get them into the biggest party of the decade. Shaking her head, Misty turned her attention to the crowd again.

Looking from face to face, Misty realised she knew roughly a third of the crowd. Here was Lara Laramie the rider, there was Egan the slightly creepy fire trainer. It dawned on the Cerulean girl – these were the people Ash, Brock and her had met on their many adventures – surely the others she couldn't place were people they met without her, or even the people Gary had met on his journey.

Thinking of Ash and Brock's escapades in her absence, Misty's eyes drifted of their own accord to her 'replacements', May and Dawn. The young Dawn was wearing a skirt far too short to be decent, and showed a suspicious tendency to notice things on the ground to bend over and pick up. Even worse was May – practically Dawn's idol – who was wearing a dress the size of a singlet. Misty, by comparison, hadn't felt the urge to dress up at all. They were huddled in a tight circle with some other girls, gossipping and whispering and giggling.

Argh! Giggling! Misty internally raged, unconsciously squeezing her beer can. She hated giggling. What is it with girls and squealing little laughs, or their need to discuss clothes or celebrities? Boys may be crude, stupid and smell, but at least they weren't inane.

Idly wondering where Ash was, Misty turned to find him right at her side.

"Misty!" He cried, hugging her. Pikachu was on his shoulder, so Misty had to dodge her chin around the rat.

"Pikachu–pi!" The pokémon greeted as well, as they separated. Ash was a little red in the cheeks, which suggested someone had snuck him a little celebratory wine even though he was underage.

"Did you see the match?!" He demanded, keeping his hands tight around Misty's shoulders. There was a huge grin on his face

"It was incredible!" She responded. Even though she didn't want to talk pokémon tonight, she had to give credit where it was due; it was the most amazing thing she'd ever seen.

"Hah, did you see what his Blastoise did to my Charizard?" Ash said, Pikachu bounding to the hand railing. He threw a few playful punches at his pokémon as if reliving the action, while Misty sighed and hope he wouldn't rant for too long. "Pam pam! And then Fwoosh, from the side!" Suddenly Ash latched onto Misty's wrist and pulled her along. "Let's dance, Mist!"

Misty marvelled as the boy pulled her through the crowd, which applauded him and his success as he passed. Pikachu had jumped to her shoulder so as not to miss his ride. The new League Champion led them outside, though he didn't miss the opportunity to snatch up his cap as they left.

As the inside of the Mansion was too crowded, the 'dance floor' as such had been moved onto the grass outside. A small stage had been built to accommodate a live band, featuring an Aipom hammering on the drums wildly. As she was pulled into the crowd, Misty wondered if it would look awkward dancing with Ash – after all, he was sixteen and she was two years his elder.

_Ah, screw 'em._ She decided, as Ash turned around to smile at her. _It's just dancing_.

A cheer rose off the floor as they realised the Champion was among them – the lead singer even mentioned it, sprouting applause. Ash smiled and cocked his cap, and then he and Pikachu started to dance. Beer in hand, Misty joined in.

Neither of them were pretty dancers – even Pikachu was their superior there. They rocked and bobbed amateurishly in time with the music, pulling out stock moves like The Lawnmower and Reversing Out of the Drive to their own amusement. Ash tried to get Misty to do some turns, but she could not quite twist all the way around on the grass, and ended up spilling her beer. This was met with snorting laughter from the three of them.

Trying to restrain herself and laugh in a more dignified manner, Misty noticed Brock on the floor. He was trying some of his 'slick moves' on a poor woman who was clearly there with her boyfriend. Giving Ash an apologetic glance, Misty cracked her knuckles and prepared to pre-empt a fight breaking by dealing Brock his normal punishment.

She didn't even take a step forward before someone else shot forward and latched onto the tall tanned man's ear. Brock bent back in pain, reigned in handily by a thin adolescent boy with thick glasses and a poor haircut. Misty blinked in shock before recognising the child as Max, May's younger brother. He had shot up.

Behind her, Ash and Pikachu chuckled at Max and Brock's antics. Misty felt surprisingly displaced at having the burden of Brock's hormones taken off her, but the feeling passed as Ash pulled her back to dance more.

"Come on, let Max take care of Brocko." Ash advised, taking Misty's hands and doing circles energetically with them. "I've got to burn off this excitement!"

He didn't get a chance, however. The crowd shifted and something was happening just nearby. Someone was clearing a circle. Curious, Ash, Misty and Pikachu pushed forward to the edge and looked in.

To their surprised it was May and Dawn. When they had finished opening up a space, and saw Ash watching, May nodded at the band. They let go a dance-y, beat-heavy tune, and the pair began a dance routine. Misty grimaced and crossed her arms.

After a moment, the Cerulean Gym-Leader was forced to admit that they were very good. She wasn't an expert, but they looked professional to her. They operated in attractive synchronisation, each movement swelling with grace and athleticism. Misty's appreciation of art had always been unrefined, but she knew a beautiful thing when she saw it – she supposed she shouldn't have expected less from such talented Co-ordinators.

Misty was getting a strange feeling about this performance, though. She furrowed her eyebrows when she saw May pass close to Dawn's skin, and observed the way they danced so close together. They were pressing against each other and touching each other a lot.

Glancing to the side she saw many of the male audience members going red and adjusting their collars. Others whistled and catcalled, while more averted their eyes. Their girlfriends seemed to be getting heated as well, but in a different sense.

Suspicious, Misty looked at her friends. Max had his arms firmly locked over her chest and was glaring at his older sister, while Brock's brain was melting. Ash was blissfully unaffected. Misty's eyes went wide as the thought occurred to her.

_Didn't know May and Dawn were like _that_…_

But then she saw how they kept their half-lidded gazes firmly on Ash at all times, begging mouth drooping open. A black rage quaked within Misty.

Before the feeling could fester and grow, the song ended, and the dance was met with grudging applause from the woman, acknowledging their skill, and whooping cheers from the men, who were less interested in the technical aspects of the performance. May and Dawn took their bows with dramatic relish (Dawn's bow drawing more cheers) and approached Ash. Dawn was giggling like it was a joke, but May had a face with an agenda.

"That was great!" Ash complimented, still believing it innocent. For once Misty was thankful for Ash's saint-like ignorance of seduction. "I didn't know you guys could dance!"

May giggled (to Misty's chagrin) and swatted Ash's arm (to Misty's further chagrin). "Oh, when you've been doing Contests as long as we have, you pick up these things."

Ash bounced, hyper on adrenalin and looked up at Brock. His friend was frozen solid, trails of blood falling from his nose. This sort of thing was normal for the Pewter Gym-Leader, so the Champion paid him no heed and turned to the others. "Man, I wish I could dance or play music or something!"

Misty, who didn't like the way May was leaning close to Ash, broke in. "I play an instrument." This got everyone's attention, even breaking Brock out of his trance.

"Really?" Asked Max, looking up at the tall girl. "What?"

"The tamborine; I've played it since I was three." Misty stated proudly.

The rest of her friends were less that impressed. May, eyebrow raised, gave Misty a look that said a volume about how little esteem the brunette held her in.

"Riiight…" she drawled, hoping that rubbing it in might help Ash realise who was the better prize.

Misty huffed and turned away, crossing her arms. "Fine, whatever!" She growled. This kicked Ash's desire to prevent his friends fighting into gear, and he reached out and took the older girl by the shoulder.

"Hey, don't be like that. Let's just have fun!"

Everyone complied, and they spent the night dancing and merry-making. Squirtle, Bayleef and Dawn's Piplup joined Pikachu, and together they tore up the 'dance floor'. May split her time equally between turning down advances from friends of Ash, and trying to coax a victory kiss from the boy. Dawn was having a good conversation with Tracey, until the Watcher had to 'get something to eat' when he realised he was being hit on by a fourteen year old. May wasn't a good role model for that girl.

Finally, Misty found herself beat. Excusing herself from a conversation between Daisy and Tracey about fixing leaks in the Gym's plumbing, the orange haired girl went outside and away from the crowd to collect herself.

Staring lightly up at the stars and moon, Misty sighed in contentment and let her hair down. It was a feeling of release. There were Hoot-Hoots nesting in the rests, cooing reassuringly, and she saw a pair of Nidoran scurry through the dark undergrowth. Relaxing for a moment with the sound of the party far away, she let herself smile freely.

Grass pressed behind her, and she turned to see Ash approach cautiously. He didn't have Pikachu with him, which was odd. When he realised he was detected, he broke out into one of his careless grins.

"Everything alright?" He asked. Misty made an affirming noise, and he approached closer. "Great night, huh?"

"Definitely." Misty agreed, rocking on her feet. Ash was quiet, which was unlike him. "Anything wrong?"

He grinned again. "Nah, I'm just wondering if you're scared of bugs in those bushes."

Misty gave a soft yelp and jumped back, causing Ash to chuckle. She fixed the short man with a scolding look.

Silence settled back in, and a foreboding feeling disquieted Misty's gut with it. She couldn't focus on the night and nature with Ash's presence right there. At length, her old friend opened his mouth.

"Hey, Mist…" he started, but hesitated. There was a fearful sensation in the Gym-leader's stomach. "Hey, Mist, I know you don't, um, like me all that much…" Misty was startled – she liked Ash plenty. "… cause we get into fights a lot, and I blew up your bike and everything…"

"Pay me back when you've got all the sponsorship deals."

Ash faltered at her interruption, but pressed on. "Um, yeah. Anyway, we've been, um, friends a long time and it's been great fun and all that…"

Watching Ash ramble and scratch the back of his cap nervously confused Misty. She tried to figure out what he was trying to say, but then the frightful, horrible possibility fell on her. Her stomach felt like a ravine.

"… I know that, like, it might be embarrassing for you, since you're older than me and everything…"

_Oh, no no no…_ Misty thought, the blood draining from her face. _He can't ask me… I'm eighteen, he's sixteen! It'll be a scandal!_

"… but, y'know, I think it's, um, mature and all that… but it's, ah, your decision and all…"

Her veins must run in a close loop, as suddenly the blood that fell from her face surged back up again in greater force. She was burning up. There was actual _pain _in her gut.

"… wait, I'm not saying this right. Mist, would you, um, go out with me some time?"

Misty was so dazed at the magnitude of the situation that she barely noticed her mouth move of its own accord and say the fateful word: "Sure."

Ash looked as startled as she did at the agreement that passed her lips. He recovered first and averted his embarrassed eyes. "Ah, cool."

They both stared blindly into the night and considered what they had wrought. Now that the scary part was over, and the words said, they could look at themselves.

_Dammit. _Misty thought, though now that she had gotten herself into this situation, she was surprised to find she didn't mind so much.

"Pi_kaa_chu…" They heard, to their horror, from behind.

Turning, they saw a bundle of their closest friends making a poor effort of hiding behind a bush to watch them. Dawn was surprisingly starry-eyed, she and Pikachu watching the show like a romance drama. May grit her teeth angrily, tearing off branches of the bush.

"Well, finally." Tracey, seeing the jig was up, felt free to comment. Next to him, Brock exploded.

"No no no NOOOO!" He cried, squeezing his skull. "This is wrong! This is so wrong!" As he continued to thrash at the hideous thought of his two old friends being romantically involved, Max and Tracey tried to calm him down. Gary stood up, surprising the lovebirds with his presence.

"Wait, they _weren't_ going out before?"

As the observers burst into wild activity, Misty looked away, red-faced. She could see Ash lower his embarrassed face as well, eyes hidden by the bill of his cap. As she gazed, the Champion lifted his face to meet her eyes.

However, the face underneath the hat wasn't the round, smooth face of Ash Ketchum – instead it was the long, handsome face of Gary Oak. Jerking in terror, Misty looked to where Gary had been standing by the bushes, to see Ash dressed in Gary's clothes, staring at her sorrowfully.

Turning again to whoever was in front of her, she saw neither young hero's face, but a hideous mess of wrinkles and old flesh, glaring evilly up at her. Misty screamed and stumbled back, looking back across at their friends, who had all stopped stock-still to look at her hauntingly. Each one also bore Agatha's ancient countenance. They all burst out in the same depraved laughter.

Turning around to flee, Misty found herself at the base of a giant chair, upon which was seated a colossal Agatha. The Mystic of Hell glared down at Misty and her pretty little memories, which, compared to her mountain of evil and forbidden esoteric knowledge, seemed so trite and small. Void-like mouth falling open, the titan laughed shrilling; a sound that at this scale was like a pounding storm.

Misty couldn't even scream.

-- --

Misty twitched harshly in her sleep, and Ash smoothed down her hair. He made soothing noises to the woman whose head was gently resting on his lap. Her eyes shot open and she launched upright. The League Champion let her, and when she realised it was a dream and calmed down, he embraced her from behind.

"Bad dream?" He asked.

Taking in all at once the flapping wings on either side, the feathers beneath her fingers, and the wind blowing into her face, Misty immediately recalled where she was – on the back of Pidgeot, flying off to their dinner date. Pikachu was sitting on the giant bird's head, staring forward. Sighing, she fell back into her husband's chest and looked into the twilight.

"Where are we?" She asked, looking down at her nice going-out clothes and her modest jewellery. She had much more lavish clothes back at both the Plateau and Cerulean, but they would be inappropriate where they were headed.

"Just passed Viridian." Ash assured, kissing his wife's ear. Even though it was only an open-collared shirt and nice slacks, the Great Kanto Trainer was very agitated in these clothes. He insisted, of course, on still wearing his cap and a black cape. "You conked right out – not get much sleep last night?"

Misty hummed absently and ran her fingers over Ash's big arms. "Ash, have you ever had a dream about an old memory?"

Chuckling, Ash shook his head. "Nah, I only dream about the future." He said as they flew evenly into the sunset.

-

-

**Author's Notes:**

You can't have one of these violent epics without a flashback to happier times, can you? And there's always a dance scene… Man, I hate dancing.

Misty totally drinks beer. I hate beer too.

I'm so full of hate.

I just realised that I make a lot of the women in this story very aggressive sexually. Huh – deep-seated psychological issue? Probably too much Pokemopolis. I still can't help but wonder if the May/Dawn dance was necessary… I didn't plan it, it just happened as I wrote.

Please Read and Review! Please…

**Atrioc:** Constructive criticism is always welcome – that's how one improves. I instinctively want to defend what I did, but you're right – I tacked that face-off on purely explain why Brock wouldn't be facing off with Surge, even if it made sense. And I wanted to remind everyone that Gary was wearing his sword, thus the escalation. It was all rather forced.


	13. American Lightning

**Disclaimer**: Perhaps you have devised this already, but I don't own Pokémon – Nintendo does. I am merely a hopeless, impoverished fan, spending his time writing pointless tales.

-

**Grasping the Moon**

Chapter 13 – American Lightning

Deliah hummed a cracked tune as she stirred the pasta. It was softening up nicely – she could set the table soon. Checking her face in the reflective window of the oven (and the roast while she was at it), she adjusted a few stray greying hairs and bustled about to hunt the cutlery from the drawers. She was careful never to look out the window.

As she grabbed a handful of knives and forks – all polished to glimmering perfection – she passed the oven and looked at herself again. Her hair had sprung out petulantly.

"Tsk," She muttered to herself, readjusting her appearance. "These naughty hairs just won't stay in place! I look like a madwoman!" She chuckled, before resuming the broken song she was humming.

She slipped into the adjacent dining room and placed the cutlery in place at each of the three spots. The cheap electric chandelier was on full blast, bathing the room in yellow light, but yet there was something off about the lighting. Then Deliah saw it – a red glow from a sliver between the drawn curtains.

Darting to the window, almost tripping over a chair, Deliah yanked the curtains hard, squeezing out the peeking outside glare. Crisis averted, the aging lady sighed in relief, leaning her back against the pane.

As she did so, Mr Mime scurried through, the clown-like pokémon sweeping away neurotically at dust that wasn't there. Upon seeing his master, the clown stopped.

"Mime, mime!" He said, though the woman couldn't understand a word he said.

Deliah walked over with a bright, if weak, smile. "My now, have you finished sweeping the house?"

The pokémon nodded his head obediently, but the hand clutching the broom quivered. He had to sweep, had to do _something_ to preoccupy him from where he was and why. Mother Ketchum giggled hollowly and put palm to face.

Suddenly, the door bell rang, causing the pair to jumped.

"Oh my!" The woman of the house declared. "They're here already! And we plum forgot to do the garden as well!"

"Mime, miiime." Mr Mime dutifully reiterated, though they both knew they had stayed inside intentionally.

Outside, Misty looked sadly around at the calf-length grass in the garden. Pikachu was playing in it, only visible by his high-held tail. It hadn't been mown for years, and was as much weed as garden now. The Water Master couldn't blame her mother-in-law, though – who would want to garden to this view? The atmosphere had discoloured the greens to a black-olive.

As she wondered whether Pikachu might encounter a wild Ekans in that jungle, the call of "Coomiiiing!" sung from inside. Sighing, Misty leaned into Ash, who squeezed her hand. She liked Mrs Ketchum, she really did, but she hated these visits.

_It's just so depressing_, she thought to herself. The latch on the other side of the door jiggled, and Pikachu scurried to their feet at the sound. _But who else will keep her company?_

The door opened and Misty forced herself not to cringe at the sight of her. Deliah's clothes were obsessively clean and pressed, but she herself was aging too quickly, and her hair stiffly stood out as though forced that way by constant pulling. She had twitchy, nervous body language, which she tried to hide with the skill of a seasoned hostess.

"Ash, my baby!" She cooed, reaching out for her son. Ash, who was equal height with her, grinned broadly and hugged her warmly.

He pulled back to allow her to hug Misty. "Hi Mum! Sorry we're a bit early – Pidgeot seems to be getting faster and faster!" Mrs Ketchum pointedly refused to look out to where Pidgeot was standing guard, as looking towards the huge bird would expose her to the sight of 'Pallet Town'. Instead she bent down and scratched Pikachu beneath the chin.

"Oh, never mind that, Ash dear. Come in, come in! You must feel like feel like abandoned Wobuffets standing around out here!" She bustled, shuffling her son and daughter-in-law inside and slamming the door a little too fast. Inside, Mr Mime greeted them with a wavering smile and a half-hearted wave.

Misty was thankful to be out of the heavy polluted air. "Hmm, what's that smell?" She asked, breathing in a lovely garlic aroma. Deliah bustled by, her pent up energy bursting out.

"Oh, dinner's not done just yet! You two sit down while I get it ready!"

"Hey, why don't we help?" Ash suggested, follow his mother. She smiled back at him.

"Only if you take that hat off inside, mister!" She said with humorous accusation. Ash threw up his hands in surrender and set his black cap on the side table at the door. While he was at it he removed his cape and hung it on the coat hanger.

Misty and Ash assisted Deliah and Mr Mime finish preparing the meal. Neither of the married couple were strong hands at cooking, so were reduced to menial tasks like ferrying the plates to the dinner table and stirring the sauce. Mr Mime would communicate in hand signals with great flourish, his more flamboyant communiqués causing the mother and son to laugh aloud.

Deliah talked automatically and uncontrollably, for which Misty was thankful. With the older lady babbling about any old thing, Misty wouldn't have to try and think of questions to ask or things to say. She was bad enough socially as it was. Deliah was pitiable, though, locked away in her own home, with hell outside. What was Misty meant to say?

Table set, food steaming and looking delicious as ever, the party sat and continued their conversation in the dining room. Pikachu sat on the floor, eating pokéblock from a bowl next to Mr Mime splayed out eating from a plate with his hands. Deliah remained dominant in the conversation, spilling out trivial details and stories from her sheltered existence. Ash sucked it all up, but Misty let her attentions wonder.

The house was scrubbed, swept and washed into a state of perpetual, perfect cleanliness. It was like a hospital. The obsessive state of tidiness was disturbing to look at – it was like no one really lived here. Misty could imagine her mother-in-law down on her knees in the kitchen, a desperate look in her eyes, scrubbing, scrubbing, trying to scrub away all the dirtiness.

In the next room she could see a veritable wall, floor to ceiling, of canvases and attempts at sculpturing. It was filled to the brim with Deliah's attempts to entertain herself without going outside. Misty quickly looked away.

_How could Ash do this to her?_ She raged for a slim moment, before reminding herself that Ash wasn't forcing her here, he simply didn't understand the psychological situation from his mother's point of view. _I can't say I blame him – this is his childhood wrapped up in a nice little box, right where he left it._

Speaking of his childhood, Deliah had turned the exchange to talking of Ash's many adventures. While she carried a glaze of ignorance, somewhere deep down Mrs Ketchum knew exactly what was going on, and never asked after Brock. Eventually she began asking questions after Ash's 'work', which the Champion deflected with scant details.

"So, Mum, you need anything?" He asked, folding his fingers. "Art supplies, books?"

Drugs? Repairs for cabin-fever episodes? Misty internally recited the unspoken parts of the question.

Deliah put her cheek to her palm again and smile emptily. "Oh, no need for that darling! I should be set for another week!"

Ash looked around. "Need me to wind up the grandfather clock?" He asked, not noticing his mother twitch. Misty could painfully visualise Deliah sitting alone in the silent room for hours on end, listening to the clock tick slowly more and more out of time.

"Yes, please…" she responded in a strained voice. Ash got up and crossed the room, doing just as he said. This left Misty and Deliah staring at each other across the table. Twiddling her fingers for a moment, Deliah was quick to break the pause. "So, Misty dear, you're looking well."

"I am." Misty lied. Slowly, she tried to formulate a halfway honest return question. "You look… how have you been?"

"Well…" Rubbing her forearm and looking away, Deliah's response fell into light laughs. Misty cried inside. Looking at the hopelessly lonely woman across from her, Misty wished there was some way to burst through the distance between the two of them and say that there was somebody who saw her suffering, someone who wanted to help.

"Look at the time!" Ash suddenly exclaimed, drawing their attention. Misty was honestly surprised it had gotten so late. "We can't go home now! How about we stay over?"

Pikachu cried his support, and Deliah brightened so visibly that Misty flinched. _She doesn't deserve this_. Misty thought, as her mother-in-law looked to her hopefully, as though she had the final say. Ash too added his pleading look to his mothers. They looked so alike.

Misty didn't want to stay. She wanted to get away and bury all thought of this place and the pathetic creatures inside. But that wouldn't be right.

"Yeah, that sounds like fun." Misty said lowly. Deliah was on her feet in an instant.

"Oh, how lovely! You can sleep in your old room!" She declared, rushing off to make the preparations. Ash beamed and came by to kiss Misty on the cheek. His wife was thinking about Ash's old room, most likely kept exactly as it was when he left for good just after their wedding.

_At least it'll be just like when we were kids_, she tried to convince herself. Mr Mime was clearing the plates and Misty dragged herself to her feet to follow Pikachu after his master. She passed a window, the curtains firmly pulled shut, and opened it a crack to gaze out. Looking past the smoke, fire and madness, she imagined that she could look all the way out towards Vermillion. _I hope Gary and the others are alright._

-- --

"Report, Sir!" The blue-haired female officer announced, standing to smart attention before her superior. Surge turned his massive frame and looked down at the woman in camouflage, indicating with his keen eyes to continue. By his boots, his Raichu imitated his actions. "Celadon is an empty plate, sir. We found only a handful of civilians, some wounded, and a grand-stand-ful of dead."

Chewing the inside of his cheek, Lieutenant Surge turned from the other officers hovering over the map of Vermillion to the reporting scout. They had set up the command element in the courtyard in which the Champion had given an address recently, surrounded by a sea of guards. "And?"

"Left Nurse Joy and a handful of men with them." The Sergeant Casey continued. She was impatient for her commanding officer to let her stand at ease. "We checked all roads – no Rebels. I think they're trying to sneak a base, sir."

Surge nodded, and finally waved Casey at ease. The small girl had a relaxed manner for a soldier, and an annoying habit of dispensing baseball analogies, but she was good at her job. She joined the crowd of others clustered around the Gym-Leader. One officer stepped forward with a glum face, his sudden movement drawing a short look from the defensive Raichu.

"Sir, if I may, the most obvious place for the Rebels to target is here."

"Of course – but we've prepared for this sort of thing." He looked down at the grim faces of his men. They were battle-hardened, but unused to fighting on their home territory. Even Raichu looked concerned. "Cheer up babies, it's a war." 'American Lightning' said before lifting his fist and pumping it back in illustration. He couldn't help but feel excited; nothing like some real action to wash down the embarrassment the Elite Second had put him through.

The leadership corps of the Lightning Strike Force imitated their leader's motion. He began to remind them of the plans in case of invasion, including the need to evacuate all civilians to the docks and set them to sail if things got bad.

Casey was following along with the rest, but heard something. Turning her puffed face, she saw a body of men quickly approached unhindered through the guards. "Sir!"

Surge looked across and watched the rag-tag retinue approach. Made up of assorted trainers and soldiers, dressed as their whims pleased, the crowd struck Surge as undisciplined and lacking unit cohesion. Raichu sniffed at them. Their unprofessional march halted before the command element, and the lead figure emerged and approached Surge.

She was a tall woman, though no match for the giant she addressed. Her hair was dark and long in a serious cut, hanging from her head grimly. She was wearing an orange kimono, sown by a master craftsmen with designs so small they could hardly be discerned from normal distance – grossly impractical clothing for a fight.

From the 'troops' behind her, a flamboyantly dressed man with green hair pirouetted forward, spinning to a knee and presenting his leader. "Behold, the one the only, Jeanette Fiiiiischeeeer!"

All at once, Fischer's retinue burst into song, chanting that, "Jeanette, Jeanette, she's the one! She won't stop 'til she's number one!" They threw streamers and banged drums, while the woman they celebrated remained still, taking the praise as though it were a natural formality that needed to be dispensed with. The Lightning Strike Force observed impassively.

When the noise had died down, Fischer took a step forward and introduced herself as though the others were never there.

"Jeanette Fischer, Unassigned Corps." She said, standing at unpractised attention. "This compliment of men and I have been assigned here by direct order from the Plateau."

"Good." Surge answered without hesitation. Eccentricities aside, he needed the troops - the Champion had likely also read into the Rebellion movements and sent reinforcements. "We need you to plug up a hole in our defence here." His huge finger, as thick as Casey's ponytail, slammed into the map at the north side.

His officers immediately set about rearranging the divisions, and Fischer saluted amateurishly. Surge's huge electric rat jumped onto the table, coming to Casey's eye-level.

"Rai?" He asked in a deep, gravely voice, sceptical of some of the assumptions his master had made. "Raiichu?"

"Of course they'll come." Surge responded. "And of course we'll win. We've prepared." He scratched the side of his blonde crew cut, and a cunning smile crossed his face. "As soon as they set foot in here, they're dead." Turning to the assembled commanders and troops, he said: "Remember; Strike fast, strike hard."

To the surprise of the visiting cheerleaders, the Vermillion natives all stood up straight as one, repeating back to their leader,

"Strike Fast! Strike Hard!"

-- --

As their Gym-Leader discussed last minute details of the defence, a line of guards stood vigil along the Western border. Well-trained and disciplined, they kept all their senses on alert, scanning the surrounding terrain for any sight of intruder. Clammy hands clutched at M-16s, ready to unload bullets into anything that moved too suddenly.

These soldiers had heard about the horrors to befall Celadon City the day before yesterday, and were ready for any Rebel action. Their city was dear to them, and they were not about to let it slip by easily. Patrolling the wire fences and standing high in guard towers, they let nothing escape their notice.

Unfortunately for them, they were expecting fire from the sky, not death from below, and so didn't notice anything amiss until a slight tremor disturbed their footing.

One Lightning Strike Forceman looked at his puppy-like Electrike, who looked back at him with a worried glance. Deciding not to take anything for granted, the soldier reached for his radio to report the disturbance in. He was far too late.

Beneath the entire unit, the ground blew upwards as though from a giant explosion. From within the cloud of a long, colossal worm rocketed forth, roaring cavernously. Those men and pokémon still standing opened fire, but bullets and electricity passed like wind over the rocky hide of this gigantic snake. The monster whipped and crashed, tearing the fences from the ground with his tail and flattening the concrete fortifications with his head.

_Yes, __Onix is in!_ Brock thought from low in the undergrowth, watching his pokémon slam huge bloody holes in the enemy unit. He nodded to Tracey next to him, who threw a pokéball backwards. A Pidgey burst out, taking immediately to flight, a green ribbon tied to its leg.

The attack signal given, Celadon Rangers, previously invisible across the landscape, rose up, leafy green pokémon by their sides. Any discomfort they may have previously had felt for fighting League forces was forgotten, burnt up by the Lost Boys of Cinnabar. They advanced swiftly as skirmishers upon the hole in Vermillion's defences, some hefting their new gunpowder weapons, others relying on their trusty bows.

Tracey risked ducking his head above cover to check on the progress of the advance. Some of the scattered Lightning Strike Force members had turned from the seemingly invulnerable Onix and focused their Pikachus on the Rangers. The Celadon Bulbasaurs shrugged off their thunder-shocks, and the Rangers' skill at hiding left them at the advantage in the gunfire.

"Leading with the Onix, and then follow with grass and auxiliaries – aren't we being over-cautious?" Tracey asked as he ducked back down, crawling forward with the large Brock. Stone-Baron found time to shake his head before pushing away a branch.

"Not really – they can soak up the damage while the main body arrives unharassed." Even as he said it, the pair could feel the aftershocks of a hundred charging feet through their bodies. Tracey risked his neck again to watch the force of Resistance fighters appear over a rise and charge for the hole in Vermillion perimeter.

The beachhead was established quickly and without much fuss, Brock and Tracey appearing just as the area was secure. Onix coiled and raised his head above the rooftops to watch for a counter-attack, while the Rangers grabbed hasty defensive positions as the rest of the troops approached. Ignoring the thin smears of blood and gore, Brock took a look at Vermillion from ground level.

It was a boring town, that's for sure – formed from rows and rows of steel half-pipe barracks. A bright, stylised lightning bolt – the Strike Force's insignia – painted over every door was the only variation from khaki within sight. It was like a modern-day Sparta.

The only buildings to break the standardised height rule were the giant power plants to the south. They were likely defended like a fortress.

_Not my problem_, Brock thought, looking down the street, spying some camouflaged natives scurrying about. The plants were somebody else's objective. For now he had merely to barrel in and break the Lightning Strike Force's back.

Brock's assessment of the situation was interrupted as the forerunners of the main body streaked in. They glanced around anxiously, keen for action and half-fearing they would get it. Tracey knocked Brock on the shoulder.

"Hey, are you sure it's wise for us to be leading the attack? As in, not commanding from behind?"

Ignoring the question at first, Brock raised a fist and indicated forward, sending the main attack force deeper into the City. As the troops surged forward, Onix hovering around his master, Crumble-Heart turned to his old friend.

"Come on Trace, what sort of Watcher are you? Don't you want to see history in the making up front?"

Tracey raised a finger to protest, but found that he couldn't find the words to argue back. Grudgingly adjusting the strap on his carbine, he grimaced and advanced alongside the Resistance Leader. "Well, I guess everything _is_ going smoothly…"

Brock set his teeth and waved Onix onward. "Yeah, that's probably a bad sign."

-- --

Explosions and gunfire could be heard all the way to Lorelei's camp further east of Vermillion. Emerging from her huge pavilion, the Frozen Maiden ignored her two black-clad guards and watched as smoke began to rise from the distant city.

"The Rebels have hit Vermillion." A voice fell down on her. Lorelei turned and looked up to the top of her huge tent, where the ninja Janine was balancing on the tip of the main beam to observe the carnage. The Fuchsia Gym-Leader stepped onto the tent tarp and gracefully slid down, flipping off the edge and onto her feet by the Elite-Fourth's side. "Should we help them?"

Lorelei remained unimpressed by her aide's gymnastics and adjusted her glasses. "Don't bother, they're no use to us."

Janine remained silent, watching the other master trainer's icy demeanour. Without Kindler to fill in the silences, conversation had been a very tense matter between the two. Eventually the Ice Queen opened her lips.

"We lost Blaine because we were inadequately prepared. We can't afford to lose more resources like that – go with your ninjas and gather intel on our opponents."

Nodding once, Janine pulled on her mask and made a motion with her hand. Suddenly, from nowhere, ten ninjas appeared, kneeled at her feet. She made another silent gesture and all of them were gone, leaving Lorelei to calculate over her next move.

-- --

"Pillboxes!" Lance yelled in frustration, diving along the concrete and rolling behind a large steel capacitor. "Why pillboxes in the middle of a power plant?!"

Around the side of his cover was the stout concrete fortification. Lightning Strike Force members rammed their rifles through the box's narrow slits, spraying bullets while their pokémon let loose with rapid volleys of lightning. Lance's task force were forced to take cover against the onslaught – yet while the abundance of metal cover covered from the bullets, the electricity shot right over it. Eyeing the steel at his back, Lance inched off it.

Swearing at the situation, Lance glanced up at Dragonite next to him, the colossal pokémon hunching to hide behind the capacitor. Sharing the shelter with them was a round green Cacnea, glancing its wide eyes back and forward for its lost trainer.

"You!" Lance pointed at the stray pokémon, which looked up at him in terror.

"Cac?"

Lance indicated for the commandeered cactus to come up beside him. "We're providing cover fire." He ordered, setting down his long dragon-headed halberd and hoisting the Steyr AUG he had spent a small fortune purchasing from the Team Rocket.

With its trainer nowhere in sight, Cacnea was forced to take orders, especially as it recognised Lance as somebody important. As it moved into position, Legend-Stalker shifted to avoid being prodded by the grass-types myriad needles.

A break came in the patter of incoming fire, and the Dragon Master seized the moment

"Covering fire!" He cried, slipping around the corner and pulling the trigger. Cacnea joined him, extending its rounded arms and launching a stream of pins form its green body. Their attack did little more than chip away at the concrete structure, but the men manning it ducked back for shelter, giving Dragonite that moment to act.

Streaking out into the open with incredible speed, the dragon rolled in the air, twisting to face the pillbox. He drew back his head, gathering shimmering light in front of his mouth before launching and brilliant beam of energy. The hyper beam pierced through the pillbox's grey walls like a warm knife into a marshmallow.

Lance was already out on the street as the defence detonated, urging soldiers on past the flames with his halberd. "Go, go! Overrun them, take the plant!"

The Resistance made it approximately seven metres past the pillbox before and new barrage tore down and electrocuted the foremost. As he joined his men peeling for new cover, Lance swore – Vermillion seemed to have been founded as a series of concentric defensive lines.

This may be a key location, but surely this is overkill! Lance commented to himself as he assessed the situation. Rather than a new pillbox, his men were marching against a tall building, every window of which was lined with mounted machine guns and electric pokémon. It had beautiful line of fire and solid foundations. Lance swore again.

Atop of the building stood Officer Casey, chewing gum and swinging a steel bat as a warm up. Next to her was her furry Electrobuzz, who was flexing his large yellow arms. Looking down at the scattering Rebels, she smiled and spat.

"Batter up." She said, giving another stick of gum to Electrobuzz before dropping one into her mouth.

-- --

Gasping for breath, the 'Astounding' Mandi pasted his back to the steel curve of the barracks he was hiding behind. With every scream, crash and cry from around the corner, he winced painfully and chided his cowardice. For a long time he had made a show of himself with bright clothes and cheap tricks, but after all that he was just a small little man, cowering away while his comrades were massacred.

Swallowing heavily, he glanced around the corner. The freaky chick was still there, clothed darkly, her black hair drifting preternaturally in the air as purple energy glowed from her form. All around the League trainers and their pokémon were tossed like dolls through the air, slamming into walls with crushing force. Mandi jerked back to avoid an airborne Voltorb.

With panicking eyes, Mandi saw the round explosive pokémon hurtling into the inert form of his Eggsecutor. The tall leafy palm tree didn't stir. Looking at the white sap splashed around, Mandi wasn't even sure if she was alive or dead.

_I'm a magician!_ He thought to himself, pulse high. _I can just pull a disappearing act, it's what people expect me to do!_ Licking his lips, he nodded his long green hair, reassuring himself. _That's right, there's no shame in running from an enemy you can't beat…_

Thinking this, Mandi pushed himself from the wall and began to stumble away towards the ships. He didn't go far before he encountered something small a dark in his path.

"A Sneasel?" He exclaimed, blinking in recognition. A light went on in his head. "Hey, with you I could fight -"

Mandi could say no more as the Sneasel launched at him, tearing with his long claws. Gurgling and spurting as he fell, he never saw the dark-skinned woman follow up behind the pokémon and continue on out into psychic's view.

"Are we done here?" Melissa called as the Sabrina mentally collided a League trainer with his Dugtrio. Letting the pair collapse to the ground, Sabrina turned her attention to her subordinate.

"Yes, I will progress further South with the other troops. Collect any stragglers and eliminate pockets of resistance we fail to address."

Nodding in acknowledgement of her orders, Melissa waited for Sabrina to float by and continue their flank attack. As her commanding officer disappeared among the identical buildings, the dark skinner Pewter trainer moved to investigate the bodies. Her Sneasel watched on impassively as she examined a broken trainer.

"These aren't members of the Lightning Strike Force." She noted to her pokémon, who wasn't truly concerned. None of the trainers were wearing uniform, and most of them didn't even have electric-type pokémon. Probably reinforcements from the Unassigned Corps. "This is bad – they were expecting an attack."

"Are you the one who killed my cheerleading squad?"

Melissa and Sneasel leapt in shock, spinning to see the newcomer. It was a tall, ornately dressed woman with a serious look – she seemed very ticked off to boot. Melissa was amazed that this woman had snuck up on both her and Sneasel without being noticed.

"Who the hell are you?" Melissa demanded, waving her pokémon to get between the two of them, while her other hand went to her pistol.

The women smiled falsely at her and waved. "I'm Jeanette Fischer, trainer extraordinaire." Jeanette pulled out a pokéball and cracked it open – revealing a lean, tiny Bellsprout. Melissa didn't know whether to laugh or consider it a distraction. Jeanette frowned. "Killing you without my cheerleaders to see won't be the same, but I'll try and make the most of it."

Nodding an unspoken command, Melissa pulled her weapon the same time as Sneasel leapt forward. Firing twice at her opponent, the Resistance fighter was stunned to see her opponent wave the long arms of her kimono in front of her, somehow catching the bullets in the folds. Melissa growled and narrowed her eyes. The sleeves must be lined with something heavy and bulletproof.

Sneasel fared far worse. Any commentator would have assumed the Sneasel would slice right through the weedy Bellsprouts stem-like body, but as the black pokémon swiped his long claws, the grass-type bent backwards in a bridge, dodging the attack comfortably. Surprised, Sneasel unleashed a furious series of swipes, all of which the Bellsprout slipped around easily.

Getting angry, Sneasel reared back and attempted to head butt the tiny weed. Hurling his forehead at his opponent proved fruitless, as Bellsprout bounded backwards out of range. A glint in her beady eye, Bellsprount wound up one of her roots and let loose a savage kick too fast for Sneasel to duck. Catching the pokémon in the jaw, she sent Sneasel flying.

Melissa had to flinch back as her pokémon careened by her into the steel wall of one of the barracks. The metal screamed as Sneasel left a deep impression on it. His master's hair shook as she looked back at the Bellspout that had delivered such a powerful attack.

_What is that monster? _Melissa thought, horror in her face. The small green pokémon gave a few practise kicks in the air, entirely confident in its abilities. Steeling herself, Melissa raised her pistol again as Sneasel pried himself from the wall. _It doesn't matter – I'm not dying today!_

-- --

The Vermillion Gym was a heavy concrete structure, sitting content in the silence as the chorus of war sung from far in the southwest, west, and north. Distinct from the curved steel bunkers gathered in blocks around it, the Gym was low but thick, rich in a spartan regality. Its windows were high and its door was a simple bulkhead, the thunderbolt insignia of the Lightning Strike Force embossed in the metal.

"Eevee, bodyslam."

The inches of reinforced steel caved in easily, falling with a heavily clatter against the force of the small brown dog that had barrelled into it. Looking around swiftly, the pokémon glanced back to nod his master in.

"Ee!"

Gary appeared in the doorframe. He peered in and was surprised to see the bulkhead was at the top of a narrow staircase heading underground. Apparently the Gym had been dug into the ground so that it could accommodate a larger interior size while maintaining the uniform height of the rest of the city.

Looking back outside, Gary checked to see if he truly was alone. This entire part of the city appeared to be abandoned – slipping by the enemy defensive line had been the hard part. It was as though every citizen of Vermillion was either at the frontlines or hidden away somewhere.

_I don't like this._ He thought, checking each green building and picking at the slash in his shirt nervously. _This defence has been too meticulously planned... _

Satisfied that he wasn't about to be attacked from behind, he indicated for Eevee to head forward. They advanced down the stairs.

Half-way down, Gary set his boot forward on the next stair, only to feel it shift and click beneath his feet. His eyes went wide. _Oh, cra-_

Moving instinctively, he threw himself forward, over Eevee's surprised face. As he tumbled down the stairs, he narrowly avoided a bolt of electricity, striking up between two electrodes on either side of where he had been standing. Controlling his fall, Gary looked up at the light show panting. That would have most definitely killed him.

Squeaking in alarm, Eevee bounded down to assist his master, but the next step the dog's foot struck also creaked. The pokémon had to dart forward to avoid being crushed by a heavy weight plummeting from the roof.

Eevee huddled in his arms, Gary and his pokémon caught their breath before carrying on down the stairs, this time with greater care. Whoever designed the traps seemed to have thought the same cheap tricks wouldn't work twice, and the pair made it down without further incident.

The base of the stairs opened up suddenly into a wide room, ringed with a slightly raised area. The overhead sprinklers had apparently been running for a while, as the room was filled with water, like a shallow pool.

"What's this?" Gary gasped, looking over the water. Eevee eyed the situation with suspicion, but their attention was caught by a voice from across the room.

"That's my line." He said. It was Lieutenant Surge, standing at full towering height – Gary instantly recognised his distinct visage from his youth. There was a M60 mounted machine-gun slung across his shoulder and a stern look on his face. "You're not the Stone-Baron!"

Smirking boldly, Gary shrugged his shoulders. "I guess he couldn't make it."

A frown crevassed the Gym Leader's face. "He's with the main attack force, isn't he? This is a problem." Turning and apparently addressing his boot, the huge man said, "Raichu, we have to kill this guy quickly!"

Emerging from behind Surge's military boots, the stout yellow rat jumped into the water. The pokémon was submerged up above its ankles, grinning like he had victory in a bag. "Raiiichu!"

Gary suddenly clued in as to why the room was flooded – the water would harm ground and rock-type pokémon, not to mention make Raichu's attacks more powerful. In this sort of situation, Brock would probably have lost…

Surge lifted his hard chin and regarded his opponent carefully. "Who are you, anyway?"

"Gary Oak." He answered off-hand, twiddling his fingers over his pokeballs with indecision. In this situation he couldn't use Nidoking or Nidoqueen as he had planned – and using Arcanine or Blastoise would be a mistake, which left the only option as Eevee or... "Scizor, go!"

In a flash of light, there stood the steel bug, raising its head and hoisting its threatening claws as it came online. _Battle mode – commencing. Target acquired – confirmed, subject 'Raichu'._ The metal insect narrowed its glowing red eyes as it calculated the necessary motions for overcoming its opponent. _Awaiting orders._

Surge was more interested in the trainer than the pokémon, keeping his electric blue eyes on Oak. "So you're the guy everyone's obsessed over? You're just a baby!" Gripping his neck, Surge rolled it to get the cricks out. "We'll you're attacking my city, so you probably know me; Lieutenant Surge, aka-ed American Lightning, Spark-Fire, Striker." Raising his massive machine gun, Surge shocked Gary by aiming at him with a weapon that normally required anchorage to fire. Oak hastily raised his AK-47, which for the first time seemed puny. "If you want to beat me, you better hope you grow up fast, baby!"

-- --

"Brock!" Tracey cried, ducking around the side of the building to spray some fire with his carbine before returning to cover. "If we get out of this alive, remind me to 'watch history unfold' as I kick your arse!"

Crumble-Heart groaned and wiped the sweat from his brow. "Shut up, Trace." He threw at the Watcher before turning to check on Onix. While he and the few troops with him were huddled in this alley between barracks, his trusty pokémon was going on a rampage across the way, preventing them from being _completely_ surrounded.

Taking a deep breath and trying to block out the sound of gunfire, Brock forced himself to relax a moment and think of a plan. Things had all gone to pot as soon as the Resistance had advanced deeper into the city; the Lightning Strike Force had launched a devastating series of counter-strikes. They struck fast and hard with pinpoint precision, breaking up the invasion into small chunks, each of which were isolated and surrounded by hostile fortifications. If it weren't for Onix' size acting as a clearly visible rallying point, the Resistance would probably be finished already.

A small squeak drew Brock's attention, and he looked down to see Tracey's Marill give him a concerned look from where it stood guarding Tracey's Venonat. "Marill?" The little blue rat asked.

Brock smiled weakly at the small pokémon. He stood up and trussed his black hair, drawing himself together to give an order…

Suddenly, the furry, large-eyed Venonat began hopping around urgently, screeching. It's supersonic detection had picked up something.

'What' soon became apparent as a Lightning Strike Forceman burst around the side of the barracks, rifle ready to bayonet Tracey in the chest. Taken completely by surprise, Sketchit stumbled back, entirely exposed to the soldier who descended on him.

The slim steel blade closed on its target, only for the rifle to be parried expertly. Tracey, heart thumping, looked to see that his faithful Scyther had intervened and swept the bayonet. Though the tips of his chitinous hide were paling with age, the bug pokémon was still spry enough to fight. Raising its other long bladed arm, Scyther cut across Tracey's attacker.

As the Lightning Strike Forceman fell in two places, his yellow Magnetic barrelled into Scyther, sending the older pokémon flying into the opposite steel wall. The lightning wolf turned growling, looking for its next target, only for Tracey to beat it over the skull with his carbine.

_Crap, hand-to-hand…_ Brock grimaced as more Vermillion shock troops poured into the narrow alley. One brave soldier confronted Brock and drove the butt of his M-16 into his face. The weapon shattered against his cheek, and the Rock Master responded by punching his assailant, sending the Forceman to the ground with a broken jaw.

Drawing his pistol, Brock fired into his nearest foes, grinding his teeth in frustration. _Who's bright idea was it to fight Kanto's best on their home turf again?_

-- --

"Who makes a city this flat?" Snap complained to himself, juggling the cigarette in his mouth. "For hell's sake!"

Vermillion was so uniformly constructed that it was impossible to find a good sniper nest. Not only was there no higher areas providing line of sight, but also the curved roofs of the barracks provide no cover at all for anyone hiding on top of them. It was probably designed with that sort of thing in mind.

Snorting, Snap shifted his weight and took a drag of his cigarette, keeping his eye through the scope of his rifle. He had lucked out and found a building that's roof had been caved in, presumably from a stray attack launched by one of the pokémon warring below. Using the depression in the steel as a trench, he was taking sparing shots at the Vermillion troops below.

A blonde head burst out from around a corner, causing Snap to grin and pull the trigger. _That's another six thousand in the bank_. He counted, watching the unfortunate soldier collapse headless. Wiping some of his wavy red hair from his eyes, Snap mused to himself on the wisdom of having negotiated a higher bounty on members of the Lightning Strike Force. Unlike most Gyms, these guys actually knew a thing or two about taking cover, and provided the occasional challenge to kill.

Suddenly, another Strike Forceman leapt out from cover, facing Snap's position with something in each hand. Snap didn't let it bother him and plugged him, mentally tallying more money due to him.

The dead man dropped what was in his hands – a pair of pokeballs – and they flashed open as they hit the ground. Snap didn't catch what the pokémon were before his scope was filled with electricity.

"Crap!" he screamed, throwing himself wildly off the building, his boot melting slightly as the electrical attack coursed through the structure. Tumbling down through the air at length, the sniper struck the asphalt hard. Sparing a moment to groan, he heard the noise of feet pattering across metal, and snapped up his gun.

Pressing through the pain all down his side, Snap pushed himself to his feet and ran down the alley, only for the far end to be blocked by the appearance – so sudden that Snap hadn't see him move – of a small yellow rat-like pokémon, with blue markings on his ears and side. A Plusle.

Turning on the spot, Snap made for the other exit, only for that too to be blocked by a similar pokémon moving with similar speed. This one had red markings, distinguishing her as a Minun.

Eyeing up this new opponent, Snap rolled his cigarette around in his mouth for a long moment. Suddenly he spun and fired at the Plusle behind him. The shot was good, but the pokémon moved with ungodly speed, disappearing from vision altogether. Snap wasted no time to marvel, throwing himself into a roll so the Minun who had launched herself at him from behind passed over head, slicing the hair on the back of his neck. Before Minun even touched the ground, she disappeared in a burst of speed.

Grumbling and spitting out his cigarette, Snap looked up. The twin pokémon were standing on either roof flanking him.

"Dammit."

As one, the two small pokémon begun building up electrical charge, growling as the bolts of lightning cackled off their fur.

"Pllllllll…"

"Miiiiiii…"

Snap recognised this as his call to leave, and bolted for the way out. Plusle and Minun simultaneously unleashed the cultivated static, sending a rain of thunderbolts down at the fast retreating marksman below.

Zig-zagging his way through the alley, he avoided electric death and dove for the corner. As he flew, he twisted and fired at the pokémon. The shots would have hit, but as he disappeared behind cover, Snap saw that the angle of the bullets was somehow disrupted, sending his precious shot screaming off.

They're emitting some sort of magnetic field, Snap realised, wiping his hands on his striped shirt. He should have known – some electric pokémon could do that. "Well, I've got just the thing for that…"

Diving his hand into his pouch, Snap shuffled around for what he needed. He didn't find it quick enough, as the Plusle and Minun streaked into the street, still furious over the death of their master. Snap jumped and rolled, narrowly avoiding the twins slamming into him, the force of their crash cracking the concrete.

Skidding to his feet, Snap kept his eyes on the pokémon and his hand in his satchel. He ducked to the side as Minun fired a shock at him, but was caught by Plusle's follow up, the small rat slamming into the back of his knee. Falling to the ground, Snap had to roll fast so his wasn't crushed beneath Minun's foot.

On the plus side, he managed to fish out the key to his success. It was a long bullet, a crisp, brown colour to the head. "Ceramic bullet, how do you like it?" Snap gloated, snapping open the breech of his rifle.

Plusle dove at him, trying to knock the bullet out of the mercenary's grasp, but he again proved too deft at dodging. Pushing himself back, Snap slipped the bullet into the chamber and closing the gun.

"Wait for it…" he told himself, taking aim while the pair continued to press him. Rolling dextrously, he kept his gun up as lightning flew. "Wait for it…"

The two pokémon darted around each other in a perfect coordination, alternatively tossing themselves bodily at him and spilling electricity across the street. Snap ducked and evaded, keeping a bead on his opponents with his long rifle, waiting for the perfect moment to…

"Now!" He cried, firing as Plusle passed in front of Minun. The ceramic projectile was unaffected by the magnetic field shielding the pair, and pierced easily through both of them. Squeaking their death rattles, the pair fell to the concrete, unmoving. Snap let out his held breath.

Looking around the street, Snap assessed his situation. Deciding his last position had been compromised he turned around to relocate.

"Two lots of four thousand." He said to himself, lighting a new cigarette and walking away from the pair of yellow bodies. "I swear, some day this discount deal will send me broke."

-- --

The machine gun chattered grimly, and Gary ducked down behind Eevee again, letting the huge shells shatter against the Reflect field the small dog had generated. The barrage didn't let up, and Eevee groaned lightly as he began to feel a strain. Hearing his pokémon's involuntary protest, Gary chanced it and edged out with his rifle, returning fire at Surge.

Without normal cover of his own, Surge had to use the doorway Gary was pinned at, moving so that Gary couldn't get an angle to fire from. Checking feed of bullets to his massive rifle, Surge edged up towards Gary's position, hoping to get him at point blank range.

_Have to finish this up quick. _He told himself, setting his hard jaw. _With Stone Baron out there, I can't be wasting time here._

Not far off, Gary reloaded and lent against the wall, gasping for breath. Eevee was tense, waiting for the next barrage of bullets – Gary wasn't so sure the pokémon could keep taking them. Examining the craters slammed into the wall, the pinned trainer realised that even a glancing hit from that M-60 would take his arm off. It was overkill.

Bumping his head against the concrete, the Pallet trainer tried to think of a plan. Looking at the situation, American Lightning was probably moving in closer right now – maybe that could be his chance to disarm him of that monster cannon.

_Yeah. _Gary told himself, firming up a plan. _That's it…_

As he rubbed Eevee on the back and began explaining his thought, Gary spared a glance out into the shallow pool before him. Scizor was having significantly more trouble than Oak had initially predicted.

Raichu skidded easily, spraying up tall walls of water, closely followed by the low-flying Scizor. The steel bug channelled extra power into its arm, causing the appendage to glow with dangerous might. Closing on its quarry, Scizor drew back and lashed forward with its steel claw.

With amazing crushing power, the attack slammed into the concrete floor of the pool, throwing up water dirty with debris. The intended object of the attack, however, had already leapt clear in a long yellow streak.

"Rai!" The rat cried down, his throaty voice mocking. "Chuu!"

Unaffected by taunts, Scizor pulled its claw free and looked up at the still-airborne pokémon. The cogs in its mind were turning. _Adjust speed estimates for Subject: Raichu by an increase factor of 2.3. Further re-assessment necessary._ Fluttering its small wings in preperation, the great bug braced itself. _Commencing fifth offensive, attack pattern: quick attack._

Pushing itself into the air, assisted by its wings, Scizor sped towards Raichu as fast as possible. Tearing the air as it streaked upward, the bio-machine had calculated the precise trajectory necessary to hit the opponent as quickly and powerfully as possible.

Things didn't work out that way, however, as the rat spun mid air and whipped the bug hard across its red steel jaw, halting its advance. Making quick use of the opportunity, Raichu threw himself through the air and slam his bodyweight directly into Scizor's iron stomach. The metallic pokémon plummeted hard into pool below, hurling water into the air and cracking more concrete.

Scizor wasn't given a moment to run a self-diagnostic before Raichu cried out and launched a huge thunderbolt down on his foe. The lightning struck powerfully, then redoubled over Scizor's body through the water, stiffening the pokémon with electrocution.

For a moment, Scizor only saw static, before coming back online in time to see Raichu land lightly in the water. Clambering to its feet without any pain, Scizor fixed its eyes on the large yellow rat, power glowing in its sockets. _Adjust power estimates for Subject: Raichu by an increase factor of 2.01… _PANG!

A face full of Raichu obstructed Scizor from finishing its internal computations. The rat began a series of strikes at lightning-fast speed all over Scizor's body, each blow ringing off the tall bug's armoured skin. Finishing his combination, Raichu settled back to see if the Rebel pokémon would collapse.

But Scizor had hardly moved from the force of the attacks, and when it had determined the assault had finished, the machine turned its attention back to its opponent. _Adjust power estimates for Subject: Raichu by an increase factor of 2.7. Further re-assessment necessary._

American Lightning paused at the edge of Gary's cover, hand tensing around the grip of his long M-60. All he had to do now was slip the massive barrel over the top and loose a rain of death over the top of Gary Oak and his pet. Steadying himself, Surge edged the weapon into position.

He was almost there when he heard a low growl. Tightening up immediately, Spark-Fire grit his teeth and pushed forward hoping to be too quick for whatever the pair had planned. He wasn't.

A brown streak rocketed forward and slammed into his chest, and before Surge knew it the machine gun had been torn from his hands. The little Eevee, holding the huge frame by the barrel in his mouth, wound up and tossed the weapon into the pool, rendering it useless. The little pokémon's strike was quickly followed up by his master, Gary rolling around the corner with his gun up.

Surge was fast, though, and simultaneously kicking Eevee and grabbing the barrel of Gary's AK-47. "Not today, kid!" He cried, wrenching the rifle from Oak's hands and tossing the weapon far behind him. It clattered along the raised portion of the room.

There was hardly a moment and Gary already had his sword out. Striker bounded backwards to avoid several sharp swipes, using the time to pull weapons from where they were strapped to his belt.

"Not so big without your gun, hey?" Gary replied, leaping forward, only to pull back just into time to avoid the buzzing coils of a tazer pass over his head. "Whoa!"

Eevee bounded up to Strike Surge from low on the ground, but the giant caught the small dog in the flank with a hard black baton, sending Eevee into the concrete wall. Hulking menacingly, the Gym-Leader held his tazer and baton akimbo, waiting for his opponent to reply in kind.

"Dammit," Gary cursed. He had been hoping this would be easier in hand-to-hand.

Deeper inside the room, Raichu was spraying thunder all through the pool, the biting electric current thereof was slowing Scizor's advance to a halting march. Even though each step forward, slicing through the hostile water was difficult, the metallic bug seemed to be taking no great harm from the waves of lightning. Eyes fixed on its goal, the machine marched through the electric tempest with fleshless tenacity.

Rounding on the rat, Scizor was finally close enough to raise its claws and fire a round of swift stars of energy. Seeing the attack coming, Raichu made a desperate dive out of the way. As the stars pattered pathetically into the water, Scizor regarded the Raichu who had leapt aside.

_Analysing…_ Scizor watched the smaller pokémon catch its breath. _Subject displayed unusual desperation in avoiding…_

Again Scizor's analysis was interrupted, this time by a panel opening in the roof via some unknown mechanism. A dozen large Electrodes fell onto the robot bug, piling up around it as they gathered unsafe amounts of energy into themselves. Scizor made no moves to escape as the Electrode exploded in a colossal ball of fire, roaring through the stale underground air. The blast was so great that Surge, Eevee and Gary paused their exchange of blows to turn and stare.

While the flames died, cooled by the water around them, Raichu grinned smugly. "Chu." He stated in his gargling voice. The smile then fell from his red cheeks as he saw through the smoke and flames a pair of red, unliving eyes.

The others saw it too, as the flames and burning sound in their ears died, that still standing tall in the epicentre of the explosion was the red shell of Scizor. Its metal coat had melted badly, but the pokémon was apparently unaware.

…Conclusion; The inorganic pokémon finished in its internal computations. While Subject; Raichu possesses strong offensive power and speed… The steel bug bent in preparation, while Raichu grunted in exasperation and charged up the electricity running through his fur. …It is weak in defence.

-- --

Unlike the Lightning Strike Force, this 'Jeanette Fischer' proved quite talented in area of defence; that is, nigh impossible to shoot. Melissa steadied her hands and picked her shots, but Fischer twirled persistently, flinging the wide sleeves of her kimono in broad arches, soaking up the bullets easily. Dancing in circles, the League trainer would close the quick distance to Melissa and strike out with the weighted ends of her sleeves.

Melissa ducked back, having already tallied a series of welts from the surprisingly effective weapon. Desperately firing some loose shots, she fell back again against Jeanette's persistent advance. A look of wound focus never left the League trainer's face.

"Just die!" Melissa cried at her spiralling opponent, kicking heavily at the mid-section. Fischer spun around artfully, whipping ferociously. Covering her face, the Pewter trainer stumbled back under the force of the flogging. Tumbling out of range, she collapsed on the ground.

Hitting the cracked street, she caught sight of her night-black Sneasel receiving a one-sided beating from the small Bellsprout. Every one of the dark-type's diving assaults were handily countered by the grass-root pokémon's lithe footwork. Invisible against Sneasel's dark hide were the series of cruel bruises developing from Bellsprout's sharp kicks.

Watching her pokémon get wheeled to the ground by one of Bellsprout's curving strikes, Melissa pulled her other pokéball from her belt. _Maybe the two of them can overwhelm her,_ she reasoned, realising Golem's type disadvantage, but desperately needing the Bellsprout defeated so her pokémon could help her deal with Fischer. The ball left her hands just as Melissa rolled and avoided her head being crushed by Jeanette's foot.

Flashing onto the battlefield as Fisher and Melissa resumed their duel, Golem snorted viciously and began an earth-shaking charge towards Bellsprout. The comparatively tiny sprout didn't even stall as the giant boulder descended upon her – grabbing the dazed Sneasel by a long arm, the plant tossed the pokémon into the face of his oncoming comrade.

Pausing to catch his fellow, Golem was off guard when Bellsprout drove a piercing kick into his eye. Bellowing in pain, the giant dropped his friend, and was sent rolling to the ground by a second strike to the jaw.

Looking up at his swiftly overwhelmed comrade, Sneasel turned his attention to the deceptively weak-looking pokémon standing triumphantly above them.

"Snee…" the usually silent pokémon moaned, as he pushed himself shakily to his feet. Looking down at the inscrutable Bellsprout, he felt hope slipping airily away. He bared his claws and charged.

-- --

It was fortunate for Lance and the men with him that while the Lightning Strike Force had made extensive defensive preparations, they seemed to have no idea how to use them. Instead of sallying forth or organising a flanking force, the morons stayed holed up in their gun-rigged building and gave Lance all the time in the world he needed to organise his task force. Even now his plan was playing out nicely.

Bullets rattled off the steel hide of the large Magneton hovering at the head of his fighting force. The Lightning Strike Forcemen squeezed their triggers and ordered their pokémon, but the heavy machine gun fire was ineffective against the vast magnetic field the pokémon was emitting. As the bullets veered wildly, the lightning swept weakly over the mass shield of psychic barriers and projected reflection shields that advanced before Lance's troops.

_Whoever owns this Magneton is getting a promotion, no doubt._ He told himself, sticking close behind the three huge metal orbs. He kept his halberd low – no sense in holding a lightning rod by his side in this environment.

Glancing behind, Lance took quick stock of his men as they continued the slow advance on the fortified building. Even with the Marcargo's pace they were moving, the shields had worked remarkably well – hardly anyone had been caught by a stray shot.

One problem though: Now that they were getting close, the Vermillion soldiers would be able to fire upon his troops from both directions. The shields would be useless in crossfire. Fortunately, Lance had already thought of this.

Signalling to the woman next to him, Lance summoned the soldier forward. She had a pokéball in her hand, and cracked it open to reveal the purple, stench-ridden form of a spherical Koffing. She too was up for promotion for having the forethought to catch one in the pollution-stained fields of Vermillion.

As they hit the mark, the woman cried out in a shrill voice – "Smokescreen!"

"Koffiiing!" the floating pokémon replied, all too happy to comply. The ball rapidly traced the lines of the invading Resistance, steaming gallons of thick black smoke from the orifices in its small body.

As soon as the dark cloud was complete, Lance held high his triangular rifle and roared. "Charge! Destroy! Conquer!"

A war cry rose from the hidden Resistance fighters, and they charged in low, to keep from the wild fire that the Vermillion gym was emptying blindly into the smog. Barging through the open windows, guns, knives, clubs and swords were waved bloodied as the Rebels began their brutal assault. Lance himself threw himself through the front door, swinging his long dragon-halberd and firing wildly into anything with a camouflage pattern. Dragonite fired bright hot hyper beams through walls and floors, filling the building with light and the smell of burnt oxygen.

By Lance's heavy boot, the floor trembled. He moved his foot away in time to see the hard brown head of a small Sandshrew poke through the ground into the cordite and fighting. Others soon dotted the floor, coming up underneath the surprised electric pokémon of the Strike Force. They were too late to disrupt the incoming fire on their advance, but were welcome reinforcements nonetheless.

Growling animalisticly through the fire and blood, Lance cut down several Gym-Members and leapt over their corpses, clubbing a Mareep and searching for new victims. The huge yellow form of an Ampharos foolishly blocked his path, power and thunder rolling over its smooth, hairless hide.

Fury didn't hesitate to raise his Steyr AUG and fire into the pokémon at close range. Blood spurted forth as the titan fell backwards before the Dragon Master, suddenly beset with myriad Sandshrews. Uncaring, Lance pressed forward.

"No mercy! No prisoners! Leave behind only victory!" He cried to his troops, searching for a way up the stairs to the next floor. He rounded a corner only to be struck square on the chest with a baseball bat. The force of the blow threw him backwards.

As he coughed up blood and sagged to his knees, a short woman with blue hair appeared before him, bouncing the bat over her shoulder. "Strike fast." She said, between chews of her gum.

Dragonite saw his master take a hit, and barged through a swarm of Magnemites to assist Legend-Stalker. He was taken completely by surprised as an ape-like Electrobuzz burst threw a wall and landed a lightning-laced punch into the dragon's temple, sending the giant pokémon flying. The baseball bat-wielding Forcewoman seemed to have expected this.

"Strike Hard." She finished.

-- --

A bullet clipped Brock's cheek, causing him to jerk back in shock. "Whoa!" He cried, dropping his pistol and dabbing his fingers against his earthy cheek. The cut was superficial.

Tracey ducked down behind one of Onix's thick boulder segments and reloaded. "You alright?" He cried to Brock.

Grimacing, Brock grabbed up his weapon again. "If you mean the bullet, then yeah. If you mean the situation… well…" He looked around grimly and let the answer fall away.

The Vermillion Gym had trapped him and a handful of the Resistance troops on all sides, pinning them with an unrelenting rain of lightning and lead. They must seen Brock effecting a major turn around in the battle and singled him out for termination. The only reason the old Pewter Gym-Leader was still alive was because Onix had coiled around his immediate comrades as heavy cover.

"Isn't this just grand?!" Skechit muttered sarcastically, watching for a moment to jump back up and return fire. "We finally get them on the defensive, and then they pull this!"

"They're desperate." Brock responded, checking his cheek again. The blood had already clotted. "If we get out of this, we're home free."

Tracey bopped his head against Onix' body. At least the strain of taking fire had yet to affect the giant snake. "There's always an 'if', isn't there?"

Brock looked around at the men and pokémon trapped with him. Most had hand-to-hand specialist pokémon who could provide no support in this situation, though there was a Celadon Ranger doing surprisingly good work with his bow. Brock let his eyes drift to a Machoke sulking impotently behind Onix' great brown segments.

"Hang on…" Brock muttered as an idea formed in his head. An optimistic shin came to his narrow eyes. "Whose Machoke is this?"

At the mention of his name, the Machoke lifted his head, and his trainer dropped down to raise his hand safely. Brock pulled a pokéball from his belt.

"Okay, listen up!" He ordered, opening the pokéball. Soon the pinecone-like body of his large Forrestress was rocked gently on the ground before him. "Get Machoke to toss him and get ready to run!"

The Resistance trainer exchanged a confused glance with his pokémon. "Toss him where?"

Brock waved his hand wildly. "Out there! Come on, we don't have forever!"

Machoke, after seeing his master nod ascent, grabbed Forrestess, and flexing his huge stony muscles, lifted the heavy pokémon onto his shoulder. Bracing himself, the pokémon prepared another herculean act and thrust Brock's pinecone over Onix' body like a shot-put.

A Machoke's strength is not to be scoffed at, and Forrestress when high and far. The enveloping troops of the Lightning Strike Force looked up at the object streaking through the air. Instinctively turning their weapons and pokémon on it, their efforts were of no avail – the air-borne pokémon began to glow with bright light.

Exploding like a massive grenade, Forrestress blew a huge chunk out of the enemy forces. Unlike the uncontrolled, suicidal explosions of some wild pokémon, Forrestress was trained to self-detonate in a controlled manner, realising less energy, but preserving his life. Rolling among the rumble, unconscious from complete exhaustion, the impenetrable pokémon was caught up in the red light of his pokéball as Onix uncurled.

"Quick! Go go go!" Brock cried, leading the sprint through the hole in enemy lines. Onix' gigantic frame shielded them from behind as they made their escape.

Dodging bullets and thunderbolts, Tracey kept close to Stone-Baron's heels, keeping an eye on the racing orange vest. Diving over the scattered debris, the Watcher couldn't help but laugh as his long hair bounced madly.

"We did it!" He said, revelling in the brief feeling of release. The others scurried over the ruins to join them, laughing at their sudden escape. "What am I saying? We've done it! This battle's as good as over!"

Gritting his teeth as he saw camouflage charge out to meet them, Crumble-Heart readied his pistol. The others saw the pursuing shock troops and lifted their weapons. Machoke cracked his knuckles and charged. "It's not over yet!" Brock rebuked, firing at the League troops. "Fight 'til the job's done!"

-- --

Lashing out with razor-thin strips of lightning had failed to cut into the chinks of Scizor's armour, as the armoured bug proved surprisingly dexterous. Electric blades carved deep into the concrete walls of the bunker, exposing the innards of the building and slicing open the plumbing and gas pipes. Water spilled from the walls, feeding the already flooded room.

_Warning:_ Scizor internally chimed, backflipping over an arching bolt. _Current water level increases Subject: Raichu's attack power by a factor of 1.7 – figure still rising._

Spinning by a piercing thundershock as it thought this, Scizor was unprepared for Raichu shooting in to head butt it in the back. To both of their surprise, the bio-machine stumbled backwards. Capitalising, the large rat snaked his tail around Scizor's legs and tripped the larger pokémon up.

Knowing that if it was fully submerged in the water, the probability of defeat surged dramatically, Scizor hurled out its claw wildly, clipping the yellow pokémon in the nose. Using the moment expertly, Scizor rolled to its feet and ducked back as another streak of lightning erupted from the rat's body.

Around the rim of the room, Surge was keeping Gary and Eevee well occupied by using his huge size effectively. Swinging baton and tazer from side to side, the giant parried and countered each blow – threatening serious electrocution in this wet environment. Gary and Eevee had trouble coordinating, as any step into the highly electric waters below would result in instant death. The spouts of water erupting from the slit pipes weren't helping.

Cutting with his sword ineffectively, Gary sprung back a meter to avoid the sparking coils of American Lightning's tazer. The sweat flying off his skin struck the electric weapon with a sizzling sound.

"Dammit!" He groaned, running his finger around the rim of his gray shirt's collar. The room was starting to grow warm and claustrophobic. Eevee kept the Lieutenant occupied while Gary took a quick breather, glancing out at his other pokémon battling Spark-Fire's. The Raichu had apparently decided to abandon electricity-based attacks for the moment in favour of direct hand-to-hand.

Letting his eyes drift down at the rising water level, pooling around the unturned rubble, he wished that Misty were here. But he shook his head – she wouldn't last five seconds in this fight.

"Man, I thought this would be easy…" He commented, raising his sword and reengaging the Gym-Leader. Surge kicked away Eevee with a heavy military boot and caught the Pallet trainer's attack with his baton.

A smirk broke his intense face. "Shock you, did I kid?" Faking with the tazer, American Lightning caught Oak in the stomach with a knee. Gary took the bone-breaking strike well and danced back out of range. "You looked down on me like I looked down on the Champion. But I learnt from my mistakes, _baby_." The uniformed titan straightened up, towering over even Gary. An uncomfortable feeling came back over Gary, the warm feeling of the room becoming… crowded? "Can you?" The Gym-Leader finished, turning to his pokémon. "Raichu, do it!"

The reason for the strange feeling became apparent as a sharp smell hit Gary's nostrils. Eyes wide, he looked from Raichu, who was crawling with electricity, to the torn walls where gas mains had been sliced open. "Gas!" He screamed, diving into the pool with Surge. Eevee threw up a Reflect field, while Scizor's sensors reeled. The yellow rat unleashed thunder into the haze, and the room was filled with fire.

Holding his breath tight, Gary waited for the heat and the glow to pass overhead, waited a moment more before raising his head above the water. Wiping his long brown hair from his eyes, he saw that the heat from the explosion had melted the exposed pipes and blacked the concrete. Eevee was safe behind his field, but Scizor was a different matter.

Whole sheets of armour had been melted from its chassis, exposing damaged circuitry and burned muscle. The side of its faceplate had been swept away, its steel jaw curling up like a mad grin, but its good eye red with grim anger. Shakily staying on his feet, the steel pokémon took an unsteady step forward at Raichu, who was breathing with effort.

"Raichu!" Gary snapped his head to see Surge had already leapt from the water. He thought it wise to do the same. "Volt Tackle!"

Rolling his head back, Raichu snapped his long tail vertical, and slammed it deep into the concrete beneath the dirty water. Having earthed himself, the rat let bellow a great cry as his fur went straight, channelling ridiculous voltage across the erect tips. The underground shook violently at his power, rumbling like thunder, loose lighting bolts slipping from his yellow body.

Every alarm in Scizors head was shrieking for an immediate counter-attack, but the servos in its legs weren't responding. Stuck with an unacceptably slow reaction time, the iron bug could but watch impassively as the end of the fight played out in front of it.

The ever increasing flowing of electricity over Raichu's stout body peaked, the light and energy so intense that the pokémon appeared as a giant ball of blue light, shedding lightning like hair from a malting dog. Tugging his tail from the ground, this sphere of white-hot energy burst forward, cleaving through the water like a missile and slamming into the helpless Scizor a meteorite.

The blast of light from the impact was so intense, the noise so brain rattling, that Gary had to shield his eyes and ears. When the quaking had ended, he opened his eyes and saw an exhausted Raichu standing over the ruined body of Scizor, crumpled on the ground a mass of dents and shorting circuits. Gary quickly withdrew the bug into its pokéball to keep it in stasis until medical repairs could be attempted.

Lieutenant Surge was standing at the ready, and Raichu, though bent from panting, had his sharp eyes on Gary. Seeing his master twitch his hand at him, Eevee raced to his side with unsearchable speed.

"I guess it's time to stop messing around then." Gary said in a serious tone, though inside he was happy that Vermillion had yielded such a monster as this. Once again, he could face a real fight with someone he could respect!

If Spark-Fire shared the sentiment, it didn't show on his face. "I hear ya, baby." The giant answered, reaching into a pouch on his belt. "And I got something just for this sort of situation."

Squeezing the water from his brown hair, Gary raised an eyebrow as his opponent withdrew a small rock. It was clear and blue like a crystal, a strange sharp shape like a water drop in the middle. "Is that a…?"

"A water-stone." Surge said with a smile, shifting the bauble in his hand. "A gift." He added as he flicked the rock with remarkable speed at Eevee.

The small dog started with surprise as the blue stone struck him dead in the forehead and fell impotently to the ground at his paws. A long moment passed as the dog and his trainer stared at the rock, their opponents waiting for the rock's peculiar radiation to mutant Eevee into an icy Vaporeon. Time passed, folds and wrinkles creasing Surge's face as his confusion increased.

"What?" He growled, as it became clear nothing was going to happen. Gary smirked and bent down and picked up the water-stone.

"That was actually pretty clever." Gary commented, pocketing the valuable item. "Force Eevee to evolve, disorientating him with his new form, not to mention making him vulnerable to your pokémon's type." He shrugged mockingly. "It's honestly not your fault it didn't work, hey?"

Raging, Surge pointed aggressively at Gary while Raichu's vexation turned to horror.

"How did that Eevee not evolve?" The Vermillion Gym-Leader demanded. "Tell me!"

"Rai? RAI?!"

Gary wasn't obliging, turning to his canine pokémon. "Eevee, Dig."

Tensing up, the dog gathered energy, shaking the already battered bunker further as streams of white energy drifted from his form. Concrete and debris loose from the constant explosions tumbled from the roof, splashing into the pool. Suddenly springing into the air, Eevee streaking into the ground, slipping through the concrete like a needle into flesh and blowing high a tower of water.

Raichu glanced desperately left and right for the inevitable underground attack, while Striker charged directly at the other trainer. Gary made no move to prepare for the attack, casually speaking up. "Eevee," he announced, confident his pokémon could hear him even while buried in the earth. "Fissure."

-- --

Swinging his halberd ferociously, Lance hit nothing other than Casey's blue ponytail. The young woman swung up with her baseball bat as she passed by, aiming for the caped man's ribs. With incredible speed and weapon control, Lance managed to twist his long pole arm and catch the intended blow on the shaft.

Simultaneously springing apparent and leaping back into the thick of it, the pair continued their duel atop the building in which Lance's men were fighting Casey's detachment. As the gritty close-quarters fighting filled the building with violence, Casey's Electrobuzz was springing from roof to roof of the various buildings in the power plant, exchanging blows with the might of Dragonite, who was barging through walls and anything else in his way to leave as much destruction as possible.

Kicking and stabbing at Casey, Lance grew increasingly irritated that as she used her bat as a sword to block attacks, she incessantly chewed gum. Snarling hideously, he swept his weapon wide, forcing the Lightning Strike Forcewoman to retreat several steps.

"Stop that disgusting habit!" He ordered irrationally, bearing his dragon-bladed halberd threateningly. Casey was entirely unaffected.

"Make me." She challenged through the gunk in her mouth.

Fuming, Lance was about to renew his attack when a massive earthquake shuddered the building. Barely keeping their feet, the two fighters looked to where they approximated the epicentre was – the Vermillion Gym.

_There's no way that was the Lieuntenant…_ Casey said to herself as she watched the building crumbled under the force of whatever caused the ground itself to shake in fear. Turning her eyes quickly to the docks she saw that the ships were already leaving – she could even see fleeing members of the Vermillion Gym scrambling for space on remaining boats. Casey's eyes twitched. The Lightning Strike Force was in full retreat – something was very wrong.

"See that!?" Lance yelled, pointing at the Vermillion natives in flight. A hideous grin spread across his cruel face. "Your line has shattered like your Gym! Surrender immediately and you will be granted quarter."

The sergeant expressed severe ennui in her face, fixing Fury with a look that read 'How stupid _are_ you?'. Seeing his offer of mercy spurned caused Lance to snort and adjust his crimson cape, readying himself to finish the fight. Casey rolled her head and spat out her gum.

"Alright." She said, voice clear now that she had nothing between her teeth. "It looks like the bottom of the fifth." Lifting her bat, she pointed it at the Dragon Master. The dark trainer looked at the heavy end of the club with confusion.

Pressing a secret button by her thumb, Casey caused the tip of the bat to flip up, reveal hidden gun barrels. Lance's eyes went wide.

"Strike, you're out." Casey said, squeezing the handle and firing a round of buck shot into the Resistance Leader. Unable to out-manoeuvre bullets, Lance took the shot on directly, the cloud of shrapnel bursting a mist of blood. As he was thrown unceremoniously to the ground, Casey waited to see if he would move.

Eventually, she turned and walked to the edge of the building.

The League Gym-Member could hear and smell the fighting continue on the lower floors. This was the last bastion of defence, and considering the Rebels would have reinforcements flooding the area soon, it seemed like the best plan would be to flee to the ships. Hopefully Surge wasn't dead, but if necessary she could lead the people of Vermillion to the Indigo Plateau – from there the Champion would help them retake their home.

Looking up into the sky, streaked with black smoke like tears, Casey reassured herself of the fact. Yes, they would return home again.

Sighing, she took a new piece of gum and placed it in her mouth. Turning to help Electrobuzz defeat the painfully persistent Dragonite, Casey saw something that she didn't see coming.

Lance was still alive. Blood darkening his black clothes, he had struggled up to his knees, gasping in pain but still gripping his heavy halberd.

"Oh." Casey said, masking her surprise well. She chewed her gum offhandedly – covered in bullet holes like that, there was no way he could do anything. In fact, he already had one foot in the Great Deep Dug-Out from which no one comes back. "Still around, are we?"

Blood spurting from his mouth with every breath, Lance looked up from beneath his brow, glaring at Casey cruelly.

"You think you can kill me?" He wheezed, quaking as he tried to push himself to his feet. He couldn't. "_You_? You are _nothing_, nothing but a nameless _commoner_!" His knuckles whitened around his weapon, rage easing the pain. "And _I_ am the _Dragon Master_!"

Springing forward suddenly, mad with pain, Lance caught Casey off guard. As she was run through the stomach, the Vermillion Sergeant couldn't even scream, the gum choking up her throat. Roaring from deep in the chest, Lance lifted his opponent up in the air on the end of his pole arm, and though he was blind with agony, swung mightily, sending Casey flying off the end of the building to certain death below.

Gagging from exhaustion, Fury waited for the sound of a _crunch_ before letting himself collapse backwards and black out.

-- --

Golem and Sneasel hauled their bruised bodies aside to avoid another volley of deadly razor-edged leaves. Golem, who had never had his stone skin bruised before, was not fast enough, and a leaf sliced clean through his side and through the khaki steel walls behind him. The stone monster cried out in pain, rolling desperately, only to be intercepted by another well-aimed leaf.

Now that Golem was where she wanted him, Bellsprout pounced forward, thrusting out both roots in a powerful dropkick, sending the much larger pokémon sprawling. As he tumbled over, Bellsprout jumped a top of the rock pokémon's round torso and reared back a leaf arm to unleash another bladed projectile. Golem could only stare up in dismay.

Sneasel didn't have the chance even to move to help his comrade before Bellsprout tossed his razor leaf and severed Golem's turtle-like head from his boulder torso. The now lifeless piece of stone skittered across the corpse-laden concrete among the rest of the dead.

"Golem, no!" Melissa cried, reigning in her grief to dodge back from a sweep of Jeanette's killer sleeves. The Pewter trainer tried to raise her pistol and return fired, but Fischer skilfully blocked her hand's upward motion and continued with an arching kick. Throughout the fight, Jeanette had remained silent, a look of calm concentration on her face as she engineered her foe's defeat.

The dark-type pokémon Sneasel was not otherwise occupied and rushed to carve up Bellsprout from behind. It was rare for the monkey-like Sneasel to hulk over his opponents, but even the threat of the large pokémon crushing her did not phase the grass-type. Steadying herself in the ground, she waited for just the right moment…

In a flash, she spun and lashed out with a powerful back kick. The combined force of the blow combined with the inertia of Sneasel's wild charge popped the dark-type's neck audibly.

Watching her other pokémon fall unmoving, Melissa could only grit her teeth and take aim. She pulled the trigger only to hear a _click_. "Damn, damn, damn…" She cursed to herself, scrambling to reload the pistol.

Just as she ejected the clip, an abrupt earthquake struck, shaking the ground and her hands. She dropped the fresh ammo and lost her footing, stumbling as the tremors passed. Jeanette wasted no time in using the distraction, leaping in and wrapping up Melissa's gun hand in her lengthy sleeves. The Pewter trainer struggled, but Fischer rolled in and shoved a hard elbow into Melissa's stomach, no expression showing on the Unassigned Corp officer's face.

As Melissa gagged, Jeanette pulled her tight, exposing her. Looking up, Melissa managed to catch a glimpse of Bellsprout tossing a leaf. Then, the sharp, paralysing pain in her abdomen.

Fischer said nothing as she callously let her victim drop to her knees and stare blindly at the blood staining her clothes. As the dark-skinned trainer fell at last to the ground, Jeanette turned to walk away, nonchalant about the passing of the whole battle. As she moved through the corpses of her colleagues, her faithful Bellsprout followed.

"It is a hollow victory without the showered praises." She muttered with thin disappointment, thinking of her dead cheerleaders. The grass pokémon next to her nodded in agreement.

Suddenly, a thick purple light covered the grass-type, lifting her off the ground despite her efforts to fight it. Tossed high into the air, Bellsprout was struck with a pinpoint-accurate psybeam of multifaceted, shimmering colour, against which there was no defence.

Turning her eyes down from where her prize pokémon was exploding, Jeanette could see a stern-faced, tall woman floating towards her on a wave of purple energy, a heavy Alakazam at her side. For the first time, Fischer's composure broke.

"Who are-" she tried to cried, but her lungs were suddenly squeezed shut by an unseen force. Lifted heftily into the air, the League trainer was slammed into the concrete with bone-breaking might, and again into the side of a steel barrack. She was deathly still as Sabrina floated by, and the psychic didn't spare her a glance.

Melissa coughed up blood, the stream of crimson falling from her lips like a crude parody of a waterfall against her dark skin. She couldn't move from the pain, and she could feel something… slipping. Some insubstantial thing within herself was falling away, and she had no faculty to grab it back. Out at the distance she thought she could see a thin old lady seated on a chair, her ancient face creased with silent malice.

A sudden physical sensation brought her back to the visceral world, and Melissa was turned, looking up into the unflinching face of Sabrina, who had rested the Pewter trainer's head upon her thighs. Spitting out the blood bubbling up her throat, Melissa tried to smile.

"Hey…" She forced out, shakily. Sabrina said nothing, smoothing Melissa's mantle of black hair comfortingly. Quaking, Melissa marvelled at Sabrina's sudden appearance – had the Vermillion Lightning Strike Force been defeated? Or was the Resistance on the retreat? All at once, Melissa realised that she didn't care.

Making a noise somewhere between a laugh and a cry, Melissa spoke her mind. "I'm sorry, I wish it was Brock here now." No one on earth knew the psychic well enough to perceive the mournful look that crossed her face. "Even after it's over, I still wish it was him…"

"Fate is not so kind as that."

Melissa looked searchingly into the ghoulish Sabrina's face, wondering if she should ask for answers about what lay beyond. But Sabrina would never say anything even if she did know.

"I'm such an idiot." Melissa muttered, closing her eyes and waking up for the first time.

-- --

Surge opened his eyes to see his mighty, stout Gym reduced to shattered piles of rubble, a mess of concrete, cinder and debris. The sight of his lovingly built fortress flattened around him strangely failed to reach him, but that was probably the shock and the ringing in his ears. American Lightning tried to stand up but found he couldn't move.

What?

Looking down, the Lieutenant saw a long pipe, melted to a spike, had skewered him, taking a red coat as it pinned him to the ground. Seeing as his giant legs, splayed apart at odd angles, had no feeling, the pipe probably had sliced his spine.

The sensation of pain was slowly returning around the wound, and Surge looked up to search for survivors. Over the concussion tone flooding his hearing, he thought he heard the crunch of gravel, and Spark-Fire turned to see Gary Oak approach, filthy from dust clinging to his wet form but hardly touched. His Eevee, equally unharmed, was working his way over the great chunks of concrete.

With nothing to lose, Surge smiled weakly at his opponent – another man that, despite his best efforts, he had underestimated. "Hey, how's Raichu?"

Oak said nothing, at last looking down at the huge Lieutenant Surge, a heavy face covering any words. The ringing in the Gym-Leader's ears had largely faded, but feeling was returning with agonising ferocity. He tried to crane his neck to see his precious pokémon, but the pain was too much. He did manage to catch a glimpse of the rat's distinct thunderbolt tail… and his arm, seven feet away.

Letting his head fall back to a less painful position, and saw poking from the ruins part of the Vermillion Thunderbolt, symbol of their membership in the Kanto Pokémon League. Surge could only chuckle at himself, at everything. He immediately hated himself for laughing.

"I guess…" He stuttered, grateful at least for someone to hear his last words. "I guess I just wanted something to die for."

With this the mighty Vermillion Gym Leader rattled his final breath, Gary staring down. Eevee looked up at his master with concern, and the silence stretched. Gary was unable to identify the awkward empty feeling in his belly, but was glad at least that Misty had not been here.

-- --

"I cannot believe you could get lost in your own palace!" Misty said, rubbing her temple in frustration. Ash spread his arms out to indicate the long hall around them, the next in a long line of nearly identical corridors.

"Hey, it's a big place!" He argued back. "If you know it so well, you tell us the way!"

Misty punched her husband in the shoulder, causing Pikachu to rock on his perch. The rat glanced between the married couple, wondering what grade this fight this was and whether he needed to thundershock sense into them again.

"Once, just once, Mr. Ketchum, can you lead me the right direction?!" the redhead fumed, crossing her arms and growling. Ash opened his mouth, but his wife pre-empted him, lashing out testily. "You just keep that mouth of yours shut, you hear!"

Beneath his feet, Pikachu could feel the Champion tense up, and a look down told the plump pokémon that this could blow out into an A-class Omega level fight. Clenching his black-gloved hands and grinding his teeth, the Great Kanto Trainer bristled and readied to explode in a rage.

Fortunately for everyone involved, a white flash and the sudden appearance of Will interrupted the loving couple. The geekish psychic, book in hand, adjusted his glasses and gave the Champion a stern look. Misty was relieved at his arrival.

"Finally, someone who…"

"Boss, where have you been?" Will cut off, ignoring the water trainer and focussing on his leader. Ash's expression went grim.

"What happened?"

Misty in turn deflated when she saw the disgustingly curvaceous Elite Second had been teleported in alongside the Saffron Gym-Leader. Misty immediately, without thinking, drew closer to Ash and grabbed his arm. May gave the redhead a hateful smile.

Will noted the women's actions with stiff expression, but returned his attention to the Champion. "Vermillion was attacked."

Ash's expression tightened, while Misty jumped in 'surprise' – a little too strong a reaction, in Will's opinion. Pikachu shook his little head. "Piii ka…"

Regarding the Champion's wife coolly, Will leaned in slightly. "Perhaps we should talk alone."

Nodding, Ash went on his toes and kissed Misty on the cheek before breaking out of her hold to go with Will, leaving the two women alone. Pikachu noticed the electric tension between the two and leapt off the Chosen One's shoulder to stay with the girls in case it got messy.

As the two men went to talk business, a crooked smile broke Misty's face as she noticed May's tight shirt and tiny mini-skirt. "Wow, were your less slutty clothes in the wash?"

Sniffing, May tossed her bangs arrogantly. "Says the girl in short shorts." She retorted, slyly monitoring her opponent from the corner of her eyes.

The taller woman stood broadly and put her hands on her hips in open challenge. "Ash certainly loves them."

May frowned. "He'd love them more on me." She shot cattily. Misty snarled, rubbing her chin.

"As if that'll happen." The Cerulean hero sneered. "You're doing it all wrong – you're trying to outfight him. You need to frame it so he wins by getting you, not by resisting you."

Smiling mockingly, May reached up and patted Misty on the shoulder. "Ha! It's great that you're so smart, to make up for your looks."

While Misty shook with rage, Pikachu stood between the two cat-fighting women – women who were both talented killers to boot – hoping that they wouldn't come to blows. The small rat groaned – women were so aggravating.

Meanwhile, Will was bringing Ketchum up to speed from Koga's reports and his own telepathic monitoring.

"Surge is dead?" Ash gaped in shock. He covered his face and turned from his loyal subordinate. "Dead?"

"It all happened today, boss." Will said, watching the shorter man try and hold his suffering inside. "Nobody thought the Rebels would strike so quick – we only got the first wave of reinforcements there."

Ash was shuddering in disbelief. Surge! Not only had Surge never done anything wrong by Ash, they needed him too! He was the one with the experience and the strategies for taking on the rest of the continent! He wasn't the sort of person you could easily replace. Hissing in disbelief and anguish that another of his 'pokémon' had been killed, the Champion still managed to ask through his teeth. "What about Lorelei? She was there, right?"

Will took a deep breath through his nose, and coughed lightly. "The Ice Queen was in the vicinity, but she didn't send any troops. Koga said there were ninjas taking notes."

A growl escaped from the side of Ash's mouth as he took to heart the Elite Fourth's failure to act. As his boss bent from anger and sadness, Will realised that he needed to distract the Champion before he made an error of judgement in this state. Raising the book in his hand, Fair-Tongue caught Ash's attention.

"Surge might have been killed, but I did manage to nab his notes and journals from Vermillion."

The Chosen One regarded the texts with disdain. "Tsh, books. It's nowhere near the same as having the real deal here." He looked down for a moment, remembering American Lightning's colossal frame and shock-blonde hair with affection. Suddenly he looked back to Will. "You do what you do with those books and figure us out a plan. As for Lorelei and Brock – we'll let them deal with each other for now."

Seeing his leader's dark mood, Will looked over to where Misty and May were bitching and decided to move his thoughts onto something else. "Your wife's a fiery one. I'd have thought with that hair and temperament, she'd be a fire trainer."

Turning to take in the vision of his tall wife, Ash actually forgot his woes for a moment and smiled. Will was so shocked to see such a vulnerable softness in the Champion's eyes that he forgot for a moment he was looking at a military dictator.

"Nah, I think water's just right for her." He said, adjusting his cap. "She's just like the sea – deep, unpredictable and unfathomable." Straightening up, clearing his countenance and beating the distress from his mind with a few blows, Ash turned around to face the other three. "Let's separate them before there's a fight."

-

-

**Author's Notes:**

Sorry this took so long to get out – I'm sure that it's rather disappointing given the wait. I don't feel it was a very strong chapter, since I'm not too happy with the writing.

I deliberated long and hard over whether Melissa should die or not, and only decided just as I was writing this chapter. I liked her character, I really did, but I had so many characters already, it was getting crowded. On the other hand, I needed the female characters. In the end I went with the 'people die in war, that sucks' shock value thing.

I know Casey's primary pokémon was some sort of grass-type, but, really, who cares?

My Surge is a mix of the huge anime one and the shorter, sharper game one. I liked different aspects of both, so I merged them. Fair enough, ey?

And let's pretend the science of the magnetic field stuff makes sense, okay?

Please Read and Review!

**Meli's Misis:** Thanks!

**Atrioc:** Well, I'm glad! I said it before, but I was a little iffy about the May/Dawn dance. I guess I needed some event where May goes to outrageous lengths to get Ash interested, to further establish her obsession and sexualise her, but, y'know… I think Dawn came off worse characterisation-wise there.


	14. Dog Eat Dog 1

**Disclaimer**: Perhaps you have devised this already, but I don't own Pokémon – Nintendo does. I am merely a hopeless, impoverished fan, spending his time writing pointless tales.

-

**Grasping the Moon**

Chapter 14 – Dog Eat Dog 

Part 1

The sack of Vermillion was a surprisingly ordered affair. It wasn't by nature an opulent city, and as most of the inhabitants had evacuated the moment the first shots were fired, there wasn't much for the Resistance to do but scour road upon road of barracks for supplies. Here they ran into trouble as many of the old Lightning Strike Force weapon caches had either been emptied, destroyed or booby-trapped.

Several Resistance soldiers carted what little loot they could salvage to the docks, the next most central place in the city after the Gym, which was not suitable for use – the Earth-rending attack performed by Gary Oak had seen to that. Thinking of the craterous centre of Vermillion, the men cast bitter eyes over at the tag-along.

He was dangling his feet over the edge of an empty pier, fiddling with some unidentifiable device, his Eevee paddling merrily in the harbour. Some Resistance troops sneered as they watched the pair happily avoid doing any dog work.

"Who the hell is this guy, anyway?" One trainer asked aloud, as some of the Celadon Rangers passed behind him and his Donophan to heap more dead Lightning Strike Forcemen in a large pile to be burnt like leaves. "He blows a huge hole in the middle of town, then sits on his arse while the rest of us slave away."

Donophan trumpeted his agreement. Swinging another blonde-haired corpse onto the bonfire, the Rangers came up beside the trainers, wiping the blood from their green cloaks.

"I don't like having a tagalong with no stake in all this." One of them said with an even voice and a frown. It was Celadon's Jenny, her green cowl over her blue hair. "Particularly one so 'superior'."

Completely unconscious of the rank-and-file's opinions, Gary twiddled some knobs on the side of the handheld device he'd designed for detecting psychic and otherworldly activity. Despite his efforts, it would only emitting nonsense readings and the sound of crackling paper.

"Gah!" He said, giving up and tossing the machine into the water, almost hitting Eevee in the process. "Ruined! There's too much static in this place." He commented, patting at the erect hairs on the back of his neck. Without anything at hand to occupy his mind, Gary was forced to sit and gaze reflectively over the water. The ships of the Vermillion fleet were long out of sight, and the lowering sun burned the sea a strong orange. He smiled.

"This is Misty's sort of scene, hey?" Eevee paused mid-paddle to stare up at his master. After a long moment, the dog squeaked suspiciously. "Remember that time we were swimming in Cerulean?"

A sinking feeling pulled at Eevee's tiny chest, and the pokémon decided it would be best to ignore what was clearly going on and dive underwater. As he surfaced, he saw that Gary had pushed himself to his knees, ready to hoist him from the water.

Once the dog was on land, Gary covered himself as Eevee shook himself dry.

"You know where Brock is?"

Much more comfortable with tracking the brown-skinned mountain than discussing his master's errant heart, Eevee eagerly sniffed at the dusty, bloody concrete. Before long, he had the scent.

Leading Gary passed the hard-working members of the Resistance, who shot dirty looks and were ignored, Eevee took him to the field hospital, which was alive with the groans and tears of the wounded. Even Gary was impressed that his pokemon had caught the smell over the thick stench of pus and blood.

They strolled easily through the beds – makeshift or otherwise – doing their best to stay out of the way of all the Chanseys and nurses scrambling to keep more from dying. Here was a Raticate with a red stump for a claw, there was a man wrapped only in red, and there was a woman weeping over her Tangela and refused either to be consoled or removed.

Weaving patiently and silently through the chaos of this different sort of battle, Gary and his pokemon came to Brock's location. They saw him from some distance back, tending to men who had somewhat stabilised. Stone Baron had a wet cloth, wiping at a feverish man's head tenderly, and at the same time was telling soothing tales to the other troops around him. They were all crowded around, hanging on every word, like chicks around a mother Pidgeotto.

Eevee made to move forward, but noticed that Gary wasn't following. Looking back, he saw his master rooted in place. He was transfixed by the maternal sight of Brock, the Crumble-Heart, wondering how many men had lost their mothers in these wars. He also pondered deep in his heart why his own mother had never fussed over him like that.

The magic was broken when the pink-haired visage of Nurse Joy appeared to check up on the patients, Blissey at hand with a tray of medicines. Brock immediately abandoned his 'children' (who laughed uproariously) to clutch pathetically to the Sister's hand.

"Why, an angel from heaven has pitied out plight and descended to bless us!" He crooned, blocking out the laughter behind him. "What odes have I to sing of your beauty? How could I possibly besmirch your glory with mere words?"

Rolling his eyes, Gary decided to play Misty's part and went to intervene. The Nurse was quite relieved to have someone pull them apart. Seeing everything was being sorted, Blissey dutifully went to tend to the men.

"Brock, you really are an..." Gary started, before his eye caught on something pinned to Nurse Joy's dress, next to her rosary. A thunderbolt. "Whoa!" He cried, skidding back and reaching for his sword.

Brock was in his face in an instant. "Just _what_ do you think you're doing?!" The heavier man demanded, blocking the path of Gary's sword out of it's sheathe.

"She's the Vermillion Nurse Joy!" Gary protested, pointing around the Boulder-King. The nun looked offended, huffing and putting her hands on her hips.

"I'll have you know that all us nurses took oaths to help anyone in need of medical attention!" She declared, crossing her arms over her chest. "That's _regardless_ of political allegiance!"

Gary squinted suspiciously, glancing from Brock in front of him to the Nurse who was angrily waiting for him to respond, to Eevee, who was tensed up on the ground. Behind him, the bed-ridden men had gone silent. All at once, Gary realised he was just too tired not to trust her.

"Fine." He said, relaxing his stance to the relief of all present. Taking a pokéball from his side, he pointed it at an empty bed and cracked it open. Spilling out in a stream of red light was a pokémon only vaguely recognisable as a Scizor. "In that case, give him a hand, hey?"

Brock gasped at Scizor's horrible shape, but Nurse Joy immediately forgot her offense and went straight to work. "Blissey, I need a hyper potion!"

The squat pink pokémon waddled over as fast as she could, presenting a tray from which Nurse Joy snatched up a bottle. She snapped off the cap and poured the blue liquid down what was left of Scizor's mouth. The fleshy, exposed parts of the steel pokémon's torn body began to shift and sizzle, emitting a light steam-like smoke. Before their very eyes, Brock, Eevee and Gary watched as the injuries melted away and portions of Scizor's cybernetic body were restored to a healthy colour.

"That should stabilise the organic parts of his body." Nurse Joy stated. "But we'll need a skilled mechanic to rebuild the robotic parts." The Sister turned to Blissey. "Go see if you can find someone – try the east wing."

With a nod the pokémon was off, and Nurse Joy turned her face to Gary, waiting for him to say what he should. The trainer in question had averted his eyes, watching some Celadon Rangers ignite lamps to fight the oncoming twilight. "Thanks." He said lowly.

It must have been impossible to hear over the background din of the moaning injured, but it was enough for Nurse Joy. Brushing herself down, she prepared to return to her tour when a hair-flattening gust of wind blew from above. They looked up to see a large yellow Dragonite holding back its weight as much as it could to give them time to clear out and let him land. Scrambling aside, those present and mobile watched the large dragon ease through the cluttered field hospital and onto the ground.

Turning to Nurse Joy, the pokémon ducked down to show her what was in her arms – a short man whose dark uniform was red with his own blood. Brock's eyes went wide. "Lance!"

Dragonite gave a tender if gargantuan moan as Joy and Brock pulled the Resistance commander down to their level. Gary stepped around to get a better look, Eevee leaping onto one of the wounded men's lap.

"Blissey, get me a trolley!" Nurse Joy shouted, hoping to catch the pink pokémon's ear as she was leaving, and pulled Legend-Stalkers arm over her shoulders. Brock did the same on his side.

"Gah!" Lance cried out as the sister shifted some wounds. She was shocked he was still alive, let alone conscious after being pierced with so many bullets. "Watch it!"

Inspecting the holes in his body, Nurse tried to figure out if there was any hope for him at all. "You've taken eight, no, ten shots over your body. You lost a lot of blood, we need to..."

Lance shoved the woman off him and pulled his arm from around her neck. "Shut up!" He spat, dragging himself forward on his own too feet. Dragonite hovered behind, concerned and powerless. Brock was pulled along by Lance's surge forward.

"Lance, you need to listen to Nurse Joy -"

"Enough, Stone Baron." The Dragon Master cut in, grabbing an advanced-looking bottle from the tray Blissey had left behind when she had run for a bed. As he raised it to his lips, the nun jumped forward with renewed urgency and holding back the dark haired man's hand with both of hers.

"Wait, that's a healing potion meant for _pokémon_! If a human takes it..." Lance ignored her arrogantly, tearing his hand from hers and pouring the blue liquid down his throat.

He was immediately thrown into convulsions, and Brock, irrationally afraid his peer would explode, backed away quickly. Keeping himself on his feet by sheer pride alone, Lance bent over grabbing his stomach and grunting in pain. His body shook and made wet hissing sounds, and the strange smoke rose from his body. Eyes wide with fear, Nurse Joy hovered over him, desperate to help but scared to touch the shivering man.

The power of the shakes heightened, and it looked as though Lance's organs would erupt from his mouth, but suddenly the worst of it passed. A series of small objects fell from his body to the ground – Gary instantly recognising them as shot. He whistled in amazement.

After a moment, the Dragon Master straightened himself out with only slight tremors over his body. The wounded men Brock had been attending too exchanged glances at their leader's ballsy move. Blissey arrived with the trolley, but saw everyone staring at the now-well commander with marvel, and the pink pokémon wondered what happened. Lance held his head high and Dragonite gave an audible grunt of relief.

"There. It worked fine." He said, though everyone saw his pallid skin and the green quality around his face. He took a wheezy step forward and Nurse Joy wondered precisely how unhealthy that had been for him. "So, let's-"

Fury cut himself off as he near-fell next to a bed, catching himself on the edge. Brock, Joy and Dragonite ducked forward to help, but paused when they heard him throw up. Politely remaining silent, they waited for him to finish emptying his stomach.

Done, Lance stood up as straight as before, wiping his mouth and continuing from where he left off as if nothing happened. "So, let's debrief. Vermillion is ours."

"But no guns." Gary put in, remembering the paltry loot they had accumulated. "Wasn't that why we came here?"

Nurse Joy recognised a conversation she shouldn't involved in when she heard one, and indicated with her eyes to Blissey that they should attend to the other wounded crying out for treatment. Not only that, but despite herself she was uncomfortable with the idea that her hometown had been crushed over something as ridiculous as weapons.

The others stayed silent while she excused herself, except Brock, who implored this 'figure of perfect loveliness' to stay and perhaps settle down with him. Gary channelled Misty and seized the heavy man's ear. Eevee snickered.

"Let's go somewhere private." Lance said, eyeing the lesser ranked men in beds around them and withdrawing Dragonite into his pokéball. Leaving the cries and smells of the open-air hospital, Gary, Brock, Lance and Eevee gathered around a newly lit lantern.

"Where's Melissa?" Brock asked, looking for his ex-lover left and right.

"Dead." A low voice announced from the shadows. They turned to watch Sabrina approach, hovering an inch over the ground.

Brock froze. "Oh." He said, going very quiet.

Gary frowned while Eevee moaned sadly. Melissa had been decent conversation. Grabbing his neck and rolling his head, Oak put it from mind as he always did – another dead, another day.

"So, what's the plan from here, hey?" The Pallet trainer asked, looking to the Dragon Master. Lance glared at Gary, asking with his look 'why are you here?' But he was still sick and Sabrina spoke up before he did.

"We shall head down around and past Fuchsia City through the Safari Zone onto the head. There we take to the sea."

Eevee and Gary exchanged a look before looking back at the psychic. "The sea? Isn't that just back there?" He asked, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder.

"As well as the entire Vermillion Navy." Lance rebutted, with a relenting look up to the sky. He may as well accept that Gary Oak had weaselled his way into the upper command. He still didn't like it, though. "It's safer down South, near the old bike bridge."

More or less along for the ride, Gary just nodded in acceptance. "And when do we rendezvous with Misty?"

Sabrina and Lance stared at Oak as though the thought of Misty rejoining them had never crossed their minds and didn't matter either way. Brock glanced up at the mention of his old friend's name, but remained in his shell. At length, Lance responded. "After that."

"We should rest now in preparations for to move out tomorrow. The Ice Queen is still out there, and we shouldn't risk a counter-attack." Sabrina stated. Lance nodded once and swung around sharply, his cape flying. The others could imagine he was keen to find a place to vomit and sleep.

"Right," he said, with a finality that ended the debrief. "Tomorrow then."

-- --

Staring at the lecherous face across from her, Misty could barely restrain her desire to blow chunks. Aside from what she had been informed, Misty had a hard time telling whether Bugsy was a man or a woman, which made him all the more sickening to look at. His face had the soft curves that any woman would envy, a slight frame and hair that hovered between shortish female length and a boyish page-boy cut. He was the walking embodiment of Queer Theory.

And his face was split with a queasy, openly lustful grin which he indiscriminately displayed to all girls fourteen and above, and at this time was set upon his charge, Misty.

"Will you stop it?!" Misty demanded, unable to keep herself from being distracted. She slammed her hairbrush onto her dresser with force to try and shoo him away, but the little fly was unfrightened.

"Stop what?" Bugsy asked, a slight buzzing quality to his voice. As he spoke, he raised one hand, forcing Misty's attention on his grimy, thin fingers, brown from constantly digging in the dirt to add to his collection of icky bug pokémon. His fingernails were _black_.

Misty settled her head on the wooden dresser of her room and hid it under her hands. Bugs _and_ filthy perverts – The look on her face when she was told this insect was assigned as her bodyguard must have put Ash into giggles for hours. Bastard.

"Stop undressing me with your eyes!" She clarified angrily, her voice muffled.

She could hear the bug collector shift slightly closer, still feeling his eyes on her. "I can start doing it with my hands, if you like."

Misty burst to her feet and came only a sliver away from crushing his skull in with her steel hammer. The sole reason she didn't was because she had committed not to kill anymore.

Grinding her jaw and squeezing her fists to channel her rage, Misty turned away suddenly. "I'm going for a walk." She forced through her teeth.

The dirty perv said nothing, but was uncomfortably close behind her as she left her room and headed to one of the long stone verandas. Realising that he was giving her hardly a foot of personal space, she growled harshly, still tight with anger. "Step. Back."

He took longer than the entirely fair split second to act, so Misty spun and stuck him in the chest. Bugsy stumbled back, clutching his left breast, clearly stunned that Misty had lashed out. Glaring down at the disgusting specimen, Misty couldn't help but wonder how _this_ feeble little man was to defend _her_. Falkner may have been neglectful, but at least he was no weakling, and certainly knew to keep his distance.

Some of her frustration released, Misty resumed her journey. Bugsy followed, having learnt his lesson and hovering back several paces.

Coming into the night air, Misty shivered, wishing she had thought to grab a coat or something to protect against the chill. Bugsy noticed, but it still stung where he had been hit, so kept his mouth from uttering anything untoward.

Staring up at the full moon – full moon again? – Misty's mind couldn't help but wander over all her recent adventures under it. Mt Moon, Saffron, Celadon – all those times fighting alongside Gary...

Misty frowned and let her head fall.

Gary...

She shouldn't be thinking of him.

Sounds from down below drew her attention. It was Ash – the sight of him made her smile – and May – the sight of her filled her with inhuman rage – training together in the courtyard, as were Pikachu and May's large Blaziken. They had been sparring a long time, likely at Ash's insistence – he was excited by the prospect of Gary coming to get him, just as Misty had predicted. If only she could get that wolf-faced hussy out of the picture.

Watching her husband and that crow battle, she witnessed Ash barrel forward and tackle May to the ground. Thick with sweat, the Great Kanto Trainer squeezed her hard to pin her to the ground, pressing down heavily. Seeing it made Misty's hairs stand on end, but then May looked directly up at the orange-haired water trainer and _smiled_.

_That little bitch!_ Misty screamed internally, without a thought as to how the Elite Second had seen her, crushing the stone railings in her hands. How she wished Gary would come and slash off her head! No, she meant Ash! No, wait, she didn't mean any of that at all!

Clutching her head, Misty tried to massage sense back into her brain. If only she could get that _woman's_ greedy hands off her man. Killing the beauty queen was out of the question sadly, no matter how much Misty wanted to. There must be some way to remove May's attentions from her Ash...

Then it hit her like a bolt of light. Mind lightening as the sudden thoughts wove into a plan, Misty found her arching spine straightening, ready for action.

Her dirty bodyguard had been watching quietly, realising that when a woman was breaking rocks with her hands that it was best to hold one's peace. Desperately attempting to learn how to become invisible, Bugsy watched fearfully as her back lightened, as some sort of inspiration raising up the fire-haired woman's shoulders.

The water trainer spun to face him, causing Bugsy to jump. "You! I need to get in contact with someone on the outside. Can you make that happen?"

Bugsy was on the defensive in the face of Misty's fierce appearance. "Uh, yeah, should do – but why?" He stuttered out dumbly.

Misty came up close to Bugsy, something she could only tolerate in order to menace the short sleaze ball. Ignoring the smell of wet soil, she growled into his face. "I'm going to make Little Miss Pretty go away."

Terror and lust rolling in his chest, the bug master found himself drawn in by his custody's smell, but horrified at the thought of touching her and causing her to explode in violence. Swallowing back his suicidal desire to grab her, he managed to force out in a small voice. "Go away?"

Misty straightened up, relieving some of Bugsy's ill-ease, and frowned decisively. "Go away."

-- --

"Your intel was... helpful." Lorelei stated, skirting dangerously close to an open compliment. Janine stood a little straighter, proud of the members of the Fuchsia clan for negotiating the battleground of Vermillion without detection.

"We are at your service." She said, trying to hold back a smile.

Lorelei paid no heed to the shorter woman's response, striding past on her high heels. She kept a strong pace, forcing the ninja to race to keep up as they curled around the decadent circus tents that made up their camp. Even a skilled stalker like Janine needed to watch the multitude of thick ropes keeping up the big top for fear of tripping, especially in the dark. In contrast, the Elite Fourth barely used her peripheral vision, slipping around the thick cords while analysing a clipboard with the pertinent data.

"It would seem, from what you observed, that the Rebels use this 'Gary Oak' to streak in and decapitate our command structures." Janine made an affirming noise, and looked up at the sound of animal giggling. Swinging playfully from the ropes was a grinning Aipom, just visible in the moonlight. Taking a cue from the pokémon, the ninja bounded onto the ropes, finding leaping from rope to rope easier going that following on foot.

"Then we should assassinate him." The ninja counselled, quick to suggest her own specialty. With a flash, she tossed a sharp shuriken, and the Aipom fell to the ground to grin no more.

The Frozen Maiden shook her head and tweaked her glasses. "No, he is still just one man. Without support he is helpless. Besides, Oak will be rendered less effective on the defensive." Lorelei tucked the board under her arm as they approached the entrance to what once was Blaine's tent, its edges burned by an unsteady light. "The true aim is to destroy the Rebel firearms."

Springing to her superior's side, Janine was curious about this course of action. "Their firearms?"

Stopping outside the tent flap, Lorelei turned and looked the ninja in the eyes. The light cast a hot glow across the Ice Queen's face, as though Blaine's fires were still whipping out from within. Janine could hear people inside. "Without the Vermillion stockpiles, our armouries are left on approximately equal footing with the Rebellion. We cannot risk a fairly pitched battle." She turned and grabbed the fabric of the tent. "The Rebel's super-heavies will be overwhelmed easily if we first overwhelm their rank and file troops." She pulled open the entrance. "To this end I have brought in professionals."

Inside the tent, painted out from the shadows by several weak and ancient lamps hanging from the tent poles, a varied cast waited around a cheap wooden table. Janine instantly counted ten and couldn't keep her hand from instinctively grabbing at her sword.

One pair was pressed against an old cupboard that looked like it would crumble at any moment from the weight of these two making out so passionately against it. The girl had long dark hair, help back out of the way of her eyes (and lips) by a yellow headband. She was wearing an equally yellow kimono, decorated with designs of lightning striking the earth. This kimono was currently being invaded by the hands of a man with his strikingly blonde hair spiked up so high it looked like an electrical storm. He appeared considerably less refined than his girlfriend, in a dirty yellow singlet.

Blushing a little at their open affection, Janine looked away, catching the argument from another nearby colour-coordinated couple.

"I'm telling you, repeated Fire Blasts are the best for any situation, dumbass!"

"You moron, you've got to burn them with lower level attacks and hold them until the final blow!"

"Idiot!"

"Bitch!"

These two were fighting viciously – the people Janine heard outside. The girl looked almost identical to the one in yellow, save with a red headband and a fire-stitched crimson kimono. Her other half wore his red hair swept back, wavy lightly like a flame as he spat insults at the girl next to him.

Seated next to them on the table were a pair who seemed of a mind with Lorelei – not only did they dress in an icy blue, the girl's kimono spread with stylised snowflakes and the guy's hair gelled a stalagmite mohawk, but they carried the same heavy, unfeeling expressions as the Ice Queen. They observed the arrival of their employers calmly, waiting patiently in identical poses, hands knitted in front of them.

Behind these two stood two more girls, also with the same long black hair, though one was noticeably young. The older wore a jet black kimono with no markings, and let her hair drift without a headband, while the youngest was wrapped in purple, her headband actually a physical manifestation of psychic power.

On the ground, only detected through Janine's ninja training, was a young boy, about the age of the psychic. He wore simple clothes and of all the men wore the most normal haircut – his thick brown hair brushed back roughly. This boy was playing with a cute Eevee.

Seeing the small dog set everything in place for Janine. She narrowed her eyes.

"The EV Team." She hissed, turning to her superior. "These are _mercenaries_."

"A ninja like yourself can hardly point fingers." Lorelei noted dryly. Janine wanted to complain, but was conditioned to stay silent. The Fuschia Clan was tied to the League by the history and honour, but these mercenaries... and could the League even afford this?

None of this concerned the Elite Fourth as she stepped forward and addressing the two dressed in blue. "I see everything is in order."

"We merely await your instructions." Said the man, Rainer. The woman next to him, Simomo, nodded once.

Hearing their unofficial leader speak, the others brought their attention to centre. Sparky and Satsuki unwillingly unentwined, while Pyro and Kome kerbed their bickering to exchanging glares. Mickey picked up his Eevee and set him on the table, sitting next to his oldest brother Rainer. Silently, Tamao and Sakura approached further into the light. Mikey glanced over his shoulder at Sakura, but when the psychic returned the look, he averted his eyes.

Seeing the squad gathered, Lorelei placed her clipboard on the table and pushed it over to Simomo. "Great things are said of you, and I expect greater." She started, ignoring Janine pout in the shadows. "Sabotague shall be your mission."

Pyro and Kome simultaneous rolled their eyes. "Geez, give us a challenge will you?"

Simomo however, was less adverse to their task. "You have no need to worry about our performance." She assured her employer, a strange glint in her eye. "After all, this business is in the family."

-- --

Brock was angry with him for some reason. Gary watched the tall olive-skinned man keep his distance, separating the two with several Celadon Rangers, but nonetheless sending sharp glares from his narrow eyes as they marched east. He had been like that all day, ever since they had awoken and left Vermillion chasing out whatever designs Lance had laid out. Gary could but marvel at how Brock's moods swung without cause.

Finally deciding that he didn't care, Gary looked around for Tracey among the regiment. Eevee noticed his master shake his head from his perch on Gary's shoulder, and followed his glances. Tracey was only a short distance behind, slowing as he bartered with Team Rocket and their tray of goods. Gary stopped to let them catch up.

"... but it really is fabulous!" Gary heard James say, watching the fop hold up a green shirt.

"Check out dat workmanship!" Persian threw in.

"The girls will simply fall to the ground around you!" Jesse advised, clapping her hands together and fluttering her eyes. "Or perhaps that certain someone won't be able to take their eyes off you?"

Despite the three-way assault, Tracey remained unimpressed. "Three packs of cigarettes and a can of pokéchow." He repeated.

Exchanging unspeaking glances, Team Rocket decided as one to yield to his offer. As they finalised the transaction, Persian craned his lithe neck to see the brand of the pokéchow.

"Ach, I hate dis stuff." He commented, in response to which Jesse drove her pointed heel into the pokémon's skull.

"It's not for you, moron! We're on-selling this!"

By this time, they had caught up to Gary, and he spoke up to Tracey.

"Shopping are we?"

Tracey smiled and pinched his shirt. It was crusty with sweat, blood and dirt. "Yeah I think this one's had it – I thought I might splurge on a new one."

As Tracey removed his old shirt and exposed his paunch, Gary nodded and plucked at the slash in his own shirt, an action that James caught onto like a Fearow. He launched forward and latched onto the taller Gary's shoulder, knocking Eevee from his spot. "Thinking of refreshing your wardrobe too? Surely clean dressing is becoming such a..." The blue haired Rocket's eyes travelled invasively over Gary's body. "..._handsome_ gentleman as yourse..."

James could say no more as his partner's elbow collided with his cheek with great force. As he collapsed to the ground, Jesse hulked over him, her face as red as her hair in rage.

"What was the first rule!?" She shouted fiercely, causing some passing soldiers to give her some space. She grabbed her man by the collar and lifted him off the ground, uncharacteristically uninterested in the sale.

"No noticing men..." James answered meekly. Satisfied, the impassioned red-head dropped him to the ground.

Sighing, Gary tossed a credit card into Jesse's face, flaring up her famous temper again. "Just get me something that looks good, hey?"

The prospect of being trusted with fashion advice _and _being paid for it soon overrode Jesse's anger with avaricious joy. Grinning as she held the card high, she spoke sweetly. "Right away, Sir!"

She darted off to check her stocks, followed by the limping James and Persian. Gary and Eevee watched them leave, Eevee not happy about ending up in the dust, before looking back to Tracey. He was still looking himself over in his fresh shirt.

"Eeeee..." Eevee emitted, trying to imitate the sound of a whistle playfully. Gary bowed his head appreciatively.

"Looking good." He said, deciding to grace his friend with a compliment.

Tracey shrugged. "Thanks." Stretching out, the Watcher made a purring sound like Persian around money. "I'm surprised I slept so well last night."

Gary knelt and extended his arm, allowing Eevee to scamper back up to his shoulder. "Same here. I had a dream."

"Good dream?"

"Dunno." Gary stood up straight. "It was about a long, free sky – pure blue. Thing was, there was no sun anywhere. There wasn't anything to burn my eyes, I could just stare up forever."

"That's stupid." A voice interrupted, surprising Tracey, who had been paying a strange amount of attention to something as pointless as a dream. Brock had spoken, having held back to see what Gary and Tracey were up to. As he approached, Eevee and his master shared a glance. "Without the sun, there's no sky. It's just night."

Gary couldn't understand why Brock was suddenly so defensive, and turned to Tracey. The Watcher shrugged, used to the ex-Breeder's moods.

"Hey, speaking of last night..." Tracey said, his face suddenly changing. "Did you notice?"

"Notice what?"

"It was the full moon again." Eevee glanced across at his master, but Gary didn't emote anything. Tracey went on. "It's been full moon for over a week now."

The four remained in silence for a while, letting the soldiers of the Resistance pass on by. Eevee didn't like this silence, his head glancing urgently between Gary, Brock and Tracey. Seeing that the others were keeping their comments to themselves, Tracey asked the obvious question.

"What do you think that means?"

"It means nothing."

The words harboured an ounce of venom, and drew the other's eyes, though no one could say who the venom was for, least of all Brock. Eyes on the Stone Baron, Gary opened his mouth. "Well, there's no scientific explanation. This sort of thing is what Misty was good at."

Brock groaned with exaggerated force and slapped his head, causing the others to raise their eyebrows. " You idiot, Misty's horrible with this stuff! You're just deluding yourself!"

Gary grit his teeth. "What's your problem today?"

Pulling at his hair, Crumble-Heart ranted viciously. "Every time you talk about anything it's 'Misty this' or 'Misty that'!"

"As if I do!" Gary protested, unaware of Eevee and Tracey's lips tightening.

"Ee eeeee..." Eevee tried to reason, but Gary suddenly found himself getting defensive without knowing the reason.

The heavy flutter of a cape announced the arrival of Lance. He looked much better after a night's rest, at least externally. "If your pokémon is saying that you've been yammering non-stop about her and we're all sick of it, then he's right."

Glaring at the short man, Gary couldn't help but clench his jaw, forcing through: "If you're implying..."

"Enough!" The Dragon Master declared with finality, waving his hand for emphasis. "As amusing as it would be for you to cuckold the Champion, this is getting out of hand." Lance pulled a pokéball from his belt, releasing his Dragonite. The Resistance Leader turned to Tracey. "We're going on a brief detour – you make sure everything is running smoothly here."

Agape at the sudden promotion, Sketchit instinctively went to attention, saluting. "Ah, thank you sir!"

Lance was ignoring him at this stage though, ordering the others to board the back of his huge yellow pokémon. Swinging up to the back of the dragon's neck, he patted the pokémon twice, to which Dragonite moaned his acknowledgement. Beating powerful wings, Dragonite rose into the air easily, even with the considerable extra weight. Tracey watched, still dumbly at salute, as they shot off south.

"Hm." James hummed, causing Tracey to jump. The three crooks were standing right next to him, watching Gary disappear. Team Rocket was just so _sneaky_ sometimes.

"He'll be back to pick these up, I assume?" Jesse said to no one in particular, looking at the pile of lovingly selected clothes in her hand, Oak's credit card settled on top of them.

Persian grinned like the Cheshire Cat. "Well, if he ain't, we'll still have his card."

Tracey urgently snatched his friend's clothes and plastic. "Give me those! I'll make sure he gets them."

Waving a docket crossly, Jesse said: "He still needs to sign!"

"There go the main twerps." James muttered reflectively, not really paying attention. He was staring out after Dragonite. "I wonder where that other twerp went, the pretty red head..."

His thoughtless utterances earned him a heavy dosage of Jesse-fist, applied directly to the skull. "Second rule?!" She demanded, her face contorted in rage.

"No noticing girls..." James answered, crying silently and rubbing his head.

"Except?" Jesse pressed, shaking a fist.

"Except you..."

Staring at the proceedings, Tracey leant down to whisper to Persian, who had to deal with this sort of thing every day. "My heart goes out to you."

The cat shrugged his furry shoulders. "I'd be more appreciative if it were ya wallet."

-- --


	15. Dog Eat Dog 2

**Disclaimer**: Perhaps you have devised this already, but I don't own Pokémon – Nintendo does. I am merely a hopeless, impoverished fan, spending his time writing pointless tales.

-

**Grasping the Moon**

Chapter 15 – Dog Eat Dog 

Part 2

Dragonite skimmed lightly over the occasional treetop as they passed over the light fields of this sparsely inhabited region of Kanto. The humans on his back clung on to whatever they could over his yellow scaly body, hoping not to be swept off by the considerable G-forces of flying at this speed. The small Eevee, however, had no fear of falling to his doom, and pleasantly adventured over Dragonite's body, unconscious of the wind slapping his furry mane.

At some point in the journey, Eevee noticed something off to the right and trotted back to nudge his master with his nose. Gary looked where the dog indicated and saw a streak of purple shadowing them.

Squinting his eyes he could see it was Sabrina, purple flames of psychic power streaming off her as she kept pace with Lance's heavy-laden Dragonite. She had likely felt the presence of the Resistance Command staff break away from the main body of troops and had come to investigate. She couldn't teleport, else she'd risk League detection.

Gary and Eevee's fellow passengers seemed to know where they were heading. Lance kept his eyes firmly forward, while Brock kept his firmly anywhere but Gary. What was with him?

Fury twitched, drawing the other's attention. "There it is."

Lifting his vision, Gary could see the dusty green of the field suddenly interrupted by a sinister scar of red-brown. Legend-Stalker directed his Dragonite down, and though the pokémon seemed strangely reluctant, he eventually complied.

Legs almost fainting with joy at the feel of solid ground, Gary had to massage some strength back into them before he could follow Lance to where the green grass spontaneously fell away. Brock stood away from them, only looking their way when Sabrina descended among them, psychic glow dissipating.

"So, what were you so desperate to -"

Words died on his tongue as the mahogany-haired trainer stared over the shallow valley to which he had been led. It was less a valley and more an open grave – the earth was dyed an unnatural red, and bones of men and pokémon could be seen protruding from the earth. The atmosphere was heavy, like a tangible object, and if Gary's device was still active, it would have detected a thousand clans of ghost pokémon gorging themselves on this feast of death and bad history. Eevee backed away.

The air was _thick_ with blood, that hideous, hateful odor that was to Gary the smell of home, of adventure, of madness, of life. He was momentarily overwhelmed by the sheer _sensation_ of it – whether it was good or bad or anything else under the sun, he was drawn right into its sadistic dance. Lance snapped him out of it without realising.

"This was where the final decisive battle of the first wars was fought." Legend-Stalker narrated. "The Cerulean Marines against the combined forces of the Fuchsia Clan and the Lavender Black Ops."

Brock tried not to pay attention as Lance recited the deeds of his old friend. Gary kept his eyes on the still-stained battlefield. "Misty."

"It was a slaughter – your _crush_ killed every single one of them." Lance continued, not allowing Gary a moment to protest his innocence. "Misty Ketchum – Wave Hammer, Deep-Water, The Sea of Blood." The Dragon Master paused for a moment, enough to make some present suspect real emotion in his heart. "They say the blood was so deep you could lose your boot in it."

"Do you see now why we cannot fully trust her or her judgement?" Sabrina asked, hovering up behind them. "We know she wants to end the League she helped build, but she is completely devoted to her husband, enough that she would massacre thousands." Gary's stomach twisted, but he refused to understand why. "She refuses to understand that Ash Ketchum is a monster."

Oak spun, filled with sudden rage, Eevee looking up sharply at Sabrina's statement. 'Ash Ketchum is a monster' sounded so very much like 'Gary Oak is a monster' to him right now.

"Is that right?!" He growled, facing up to Sabrina. She observed him impassively.

"Ha, you wouldn't get that, would you?" Brock said, emerging from his shell even after the shock of hearing the 'A-word'. "You just kill all the problems away, just like A – the Champion." Gary couldn't say anything, his anger clogged his throat. Stone-Baron waved his hand over the valley fertilised with blood. "It doesn't matter how many people you kill, you can't change the world."

Eevee was giving Gary a concerned look, rubbing himself against his leg to try and calm his master down. It worked a little, relaxing Gary to the point where he could speak.

"We don't kill to change the world, we kill to change ourselves."

Perhaps fortunately, no one had the opportunity to ask who 'we' was, as Brock flew forward and grabbed Gary by the shirt, further tearing it. Matching Gary's hard eyes against the inscrutable slits in Brock's face, the two glared angrily, gritting their teeth for war.

"It's just kill or be killed! Dog eat dog!" Brock hissed. "Is that how it is? Doesn't matter if it's someone's family, or someone's girlfriend!" Gary wanted to bite back, but Crumble-Heart didn't stop, letting his head drop to glare up from under his brow. "I had a mum and dad! Where are they? Dead. I had eight brothers and sisters! How many are left? Two – and one has no legs."

Sudden revelation hit Gary as he realised all Brock really wanted to do was stop the madness that Kanto had become and go back to how things were before, where his biggest problem was finding a girl that would love him back. The surprise let compassion creep in, and he found it hard to stay angry at the brown man clutching him.

Eevee noticed the change in his master's composure, and let himself loosen up. Gary gently pulled Brock's hand from his shirt, and it was only the change of the look in his face that caused the old Pewter Gym-Leader to let him.

"I had a mother and father and a sister. They died in these wars too." Gary tried to say tenderly. He wasn't used to being kind. "But none of this changes anything."

It was hard to tell what Brock was thinking, as his face was stony. There was a silence, which was surprisingly filled by Sabrina.

"This place is evil." Lance snorted, but the psychic ignored him as she stared over the Sea of Blood. She watched a colourful Chatot approach in the sky, then sharply alter course around the battlefield to avoid flying over before resuming its previous flight path on the other side. "It causes dissention to all who stand here." She looked to the cursed ground with a strange faraway look. "The world is full of wrong things. There is something wrong at the base of the world."

Gary hadn't taken his eyes from Brock, as there was a feeling between the two that their encounter hadn't ended, but was listening to Sabrina's strange rant. He nodded. "I know, I've seen it." He said, remembering the adventure he wished most to forget. Eevee knew what he was talking about, and the dog's hairs stood on end. "Missingno – the error at the soul of the universe."

Sabrina was stunned at this news, but before she could even confirm she had heard correctly, another voice spoke out.

"You are mistaken." A mocking voice stated. The whole party turned, hands flying to their weapons. Only thirty meters from where they stood was a pair of women, separated in age, one dressed in black and the other in purple, and their pokémon – a slippery Espeon and a sleek dark Umbreon. Behind them was a young brown-haired boy with an Eevee.

"Missingno is not in one place." The older woman in the black kimono continued, indentifying her as the one who first spoke. She had a craven appearance, and her hair coiled with a life of its own. Her sleepless eyes were gleaming with hateful fun. "It is inside us all."

Gary first thought was to ask why nobody, particularly Sabrina, had been to detect their approach over open terrain. Then he realised that the Umbreon could have shielded them from psychic detection while the young girl, who was showcasing her mental power with a glowing headband of energy, could have teleported them in.

"Assassins?" Lance snarled, pulling the Steyr Aug from around his shoulder. "Is this a farce? Do they know who we are?"

"This is a distraction." Sabrina informed, having thought to scan what was happening to the main body of troops. "We are under attack."

Brock cursed while Lance waved over his Dragonite. The huge pokémon had kept his distance from the Sea of Blood, but was quick to come to his master's side.

"We're going back!" Lance declared, as though the six who had come to fight them weren't there, and swung onto Dragonite's back, his cape trailing.

Gary glared at the psychic and presumably the witch who were staring at him alone. The elfin-eared pale Espeon coiled impatiently, and the Umbreon pawed at the ground and bared its teeth. Eevee seemed to be thinking along similar lines, rolling his tiny neck in the manner he'd seen his master do. "I think they're here for me. I'll stay."

Lance rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine." He looked back to check that Brock had mounted correctly and took off without fanfare, Sabrina rocketing after them under the power of her own mind.

The participants in the fight were left at a showdown, none willing to make the first move.

Suddenly, the psychic bowed politely. "I'm Sakura." She introduced herself as, and she had the tight but soft look of a girl unused to the wide world. The women in black huffed in sisterly fashion.

"I'm Mikey!" The boy behind them said, waving innocently, his Eevee smiling and wagging its tail. If the Sakura was cloistered, he looked positively out of place – to the detail a regular young boy. Such a child should have been impossible in Kanto nowadays. Gary wondered what he was even doing here.

"Um, Gary Oak."

"Eeeeeveee." His dog said, smirking.

"Tamao." The older woman said, tearing away a strand of hair that had tried to poke her eye out. "Can we get to the killing now?"

-- --

Sparky licked his lips as he watched Satsuki whip aggressively at any Rebels who attempted to charge them. Even in the screaming and the panic, as she carved a path of lashes towards the Rebel stockpiles while their Jolteons threw lightning in every direction, he couldn't help but marvel at how beautiful she was. He ran his tongue around his mouth a second time.

"Sweety," She said suddenly, catching a fleeing Rebel in the neck with her whip. "As much I enjoy you checking this out," she wiggled her rump cutely for emphasis. "Please keep your mind on the task."

Smirking, Sparky pulled his eyes away and raised his electronic gun. "Just thinking we could put that whip to better use later." He shot off. A lash at his toes caused him to leap. Satsuki tried to give him a stern look, but was smiling too much to appear threatening.

A soldier gave a war cry and lifted a gun in Sparky's direction. With practised smoothness, the blonde pointed his new electronic gun and fired, striking the Rebel with three bullets simultaneously. He had obtained the weapon in Sinnoh, where they had designed it to fire without gunpowder at insane rates of fire. He could kill Rebels by the droves so long as he was careful not to waste his huge clip.

Sparky and Satsuki's Jolteons stuck close together, feeding their electrical energy through each other to amplify the power. A sphere of lightning streamed without interruption from their bodies, frying anything within the radius. They simply needed to move forward and break the enemy line – as though they had one – while their amorous masters cleaned up behind them.

A bolt of lightning streaked out and almost took the leg off a chubby rebel in a strangely clean shirt. The black-haired man rolled out of the way just in time and scurried behind a cart, the pokemon still chained to it, bucking and desperate to avoid the encroaching lightning ball.

Catching his breathe, Tracey looked to his left to see Snap behind the same cart, the mercenary content to sit there while it all went to hell around him.

"What are you doing?!" The watcher shouted, at the end of his patience. It would just figure that the moment he was left in charge the army would be attacked. In fact, these attackers probably noticed their leaders splitting off and took advantage of the situation. Whatsmore, his new shirt was getting dirty.

Snap's red hair bobbed as he turned to Sketchit. "Nobody's paid me to shoot anyone yet." He stated calmly.

Tracey growled and rubbed viciously at his temples, disturbing his headband. The entire force was in a panic, caught dead in the centre of a three-way pincer movement, with reinforcements unable to find where to go, nor get there due to the fleeing soldiers. Where was the advance warning? The Rangers weren't pulling their weight, apparently.

The cart – nothing more than a converted farming trailer – shook as the Rapidash and Rhydon who had been pulling it struggled harder to escape, terror frustrating their attempts when they could just move forward together. Tracey wondered briefly whether things would be better if they had the fuel for trucks, but dismissed the thought in favour of more pressing issues.

These carts carried the ammo, rifles and other military goods the Resistance had accumulated from Team Rocket. This pack of transports in which the Watcher and the Sniper were hiding were no doubt the target, which meant the Jolteon trainers would be heading straight their way.

"Damn it Snap!" Tracey growled, turning to the man with the rifle. "Won't you even shoot someone for free to save your own life?"

The sniper gave Tracey a blank look that suggested the concept was new and alien to him. Resisting the urge to slam his head against an iron wheel, Tracey turned back to the mercenary, realising there was no time to reason.

"Eight thousand each for the Jolteons, six thousand for the trainers." The long-haired watcher wasn't sure how much money Lance or Brock had left, but if worst came to worst, Gary would cover for him.

Snap nodded and stirred to action. "Deal." He said, putting an unlit cigarette in his mouth and lying down. He set up his rifle on the pebbly dirt beneath the stationary cart and loaded a strange looking brown bullet.

The shot thundered across the chaos, above even the fizzling and crackling of the dual-Jolteon Thunder Field. One of the spiked yellow dogs was thrown fully backwards, her electrified blood spitting in the grass. The other one was frozen in place, watching his mate twitch and die.

Resistance Guerillas took the sudden opportunity, hosing the stunned Jolteon down with gunfire. No amount of magnetic interference could avert that many bullets, and soon this pokémon was reduced to meat and lead.

Seeing what had happened to their pokémon, Sparky and Satsuki leaped forward wildly, roaring in grief and anger. The sharp-haired Sparky was met with another piercing shot to the singlet from Snap's long rifle. Kimono twisting wildly, Satsuki shifted course to her lover's side, tears in her eyes, but this only brought her into the sniper's sights, and she too went down with under the boom of cordite.

Even with the sounds of fighting still off in two directions, the sudden sensation of silence and calm fell over the immediate area. Tracey, who was peeking below the rusty cart, let out a sigh of relief. Snap watched for a moment to check that they were really dead, then sat up suddenly and put his gun back to his shoulder.

"Done." He said, something in his tone prodding for the cash.

"You'll get your money." Sketchit advised as he stood, painfully aware that he had none on him. The Watcher passed by the front of his cart, petting the Ryhorn to calm the creature (he dreaded the thought of touching the Rapidash in its condition) and the pokémon seemed to understand that the immediate danger was over.

"You." Tracey ordered, pointing to the nearest Resistance soldier, painfully aware of he sounds of groans and the smell of burns. "Find the Nurse Joys. The rest of you, come with me."

Turning and indicating for Snap to follow, Tracey headed for the nearest sounding battle. The sniper smelled money and followed, as did a good body of men. The Orange Islander grimaced. "We need to get to the next hotspot." He informed them lowly.

-- --

"Dammit, woman!" Pyro shouted, throwing his arm up just in time to avoid a wayward Fire Blast. "Watch where your pokémon is firing those things!"

Kome gave him the finger while lighting up another Molotov cocktail in the flaming fur of the Flareon at her feet. The burning dog barely noticed as she tossed it into a cluster of advancing Rebels, winding up to launch another devastating five-armed blast of fire. The attack smashed through an opponent Voltorb's lightscreen, overwhelming the spherical pokémon and those hiding behind it.

Pyro could only sneer at Kome's disregard for safety, especially as if any fire got to the napalm pack strapped to his back, the explosion would be huge. "You're such a bitch!" he spat, pouring the contents of his flamethrower over some Rebels trying to hide behind makeshift cover. His Flareon followed suit, picking at holes in the defense with short bouts of Ember.

The carts in which the Rebellion presumably kept their weapons were still some way off, but though their advance was slow, the Flareon trainers had made it more destructive, torching everything in sight.

"Sorry, I forgot that with all your whining and complaining, you're the only bitch here!"

Watching some trainers make for a retreat, Pyro decided to take his frustration out on them, tilting the nozzle of his flamethrower. Expertly, he guided the liquid fire to form a wall to cut them off, and nodded to Flareon. The dog leapt in the thick of them, slashing and biting, doing equally as much damage with the teeth and paws as with the raging heat of his fur.

Grinning in empty satisfaction as he watched the Rebels torn to shreds, the red-head was surprised to hear Kome speak without him retorting first.

"What the?"

_What does the hag want_ now_?_ He thought, turning to see her pausing from tossing Molotov's to look up in the sky with her dog.

Craning his neck, Pyro saw between the rising rivers of smoke a purple star shoot down close towards them. In a light burst of purple light, the visitor revealed herself to be the dark-eyed Sabrina.

"Crap, the psychic!" Kome cried, her red kimono slipping loose as she wildly drew back her arm and threw a bottle. She hadn't thought to light the rag, but her Flareon was swift enough to shoot it mid air with her fire breath.

Sabrina didn't move until the incendiary had almost struck, lifting her hand and raising a mental field against which the glass shattered, spreading the burning alcohol over the purple sheen. Flicking her hand, she sent the burning liquid down to the path, far from hurting her.

Realising things were against her, Kome pointed to direct her pokémon. "Flareon, Fireblast!"

The fiery dog opened her mouth, only to have her body freeze up under the pressure of sudden psychic force. Kome tried to say something, but she too was cloaked in the purple glow. With a hard look, Sabrina pointed a finger nail and unleashed a crystal-coloured psybeam that wiped the pair from the face of the world.

Seeing his precious Kome gone, Pyro was in a rage. "Kome, babe!" He cried, turning his flamethrower on Sabrina. "I'll kill you!"

Squeezing the trigger spewed forth a long jet of flame, matched by Pyro's Flareon, who joined the flamethrower's stream with his own, burning for vengeance over his lost mate. The psychic target raised a hand, which she cloaked with crafted purple energy into a blade, and slashed out at the oncoming fire, cutting the fire itself. Splitting it before her with her sharpened hand, Sabrina propelled herself forward into the stream directly.

Irrational in loss, Pyro and Flareon poured the flames on harder, hoping to overwhelm the dark lady, but she parted the fire like clouds and closed quickly. Flicking her hand parted Flareon's head from its trunk with a cut so perfectly clean that the dog didn't feel it. Pyro had no time to register that his pokémon was dead before Sabrina effortlessly pierced his chest with her glowing sword-hand all the way through, cutting into the napalm pack on the other side.

There was a large explosion as Tracey, Snap and a retinue of Resistance troops finished weaving through the improvised weapon carts. They approached the battle-site just in time to see Sabrina emerge unscathed through the crazed flames. A Celadon Ranger, trained to particularly fear fire, whistled.

"Sketchit." She acknowledged calmly, completely unaffected. Tracey almost saluted, but stopped himself when he remembered that Sabrina didn't care for such ornamentation.

"Onto number three, then?"

Sabrina wasn't harried. "There is no need for impatience." She said, hovering into the air. "Things are cooling down at this point."

-- --

Things were proceeding slickly with Rainer and Simomo. Rainer had a large tank of water that his Vaporeon was towing behind him, into which he had a fire hose hooked. Adjusting the nozzle to spray broadly, he caused a heavy rain to fall on the Rebels to cross their path, a rain which Vaporeon turned to icy daggers with a constant ice beam.

As Rainer poured this deadly hail on his enemy, Simomo and her Vaporeon were keeping the Rebels from rushing him with her trusty ice pick. Stabbing viciously into anyone who ventured too close, she looked like a snowflake whipped around in the wind, her blue dress jerking contrary to every motion as she leapt from opponent to opponent. Her Vaporeon was as the blizzard to her snowflake, weaving around her spreading icy ruin.

Wordlessly advancing to their objective, the team ignored the wounded and dying. Rainer's focussed attention was only snatched away when his artificial blizzard was instantly evaporated by a ball of black fire.

Looking up, the mercenary saw the bulky shape of a Dragonite swoop in and narrowed his eyes. The powerhouses were back – He and the family had been too slow.

"Incoming." He noted to his female counterpart, no fear in his voice. She didn't even look, trusting completely that his warning was sufficient.

From his vantage point in the air, Lance assessed the damages below, his hard thin face creasing. "Losses, more losses!" He muttered to himself, seeing all the dead. This was no major engagement, but the Resistance death-count was far higher than it should have been. Worse, had he been any later and these bandits or League henchmen or whatever would have reached his precious weapon supplies!

"Hey, check that one out!" Brock noted, assessing something altogether different as he leered at the raven-haired woman with the ice pick, hoping to catch a glimpse of her legs as her kimono billowed in her death-dance. Lance sneered, but noted that at least Everlasting was coming out of his funk.

"You take the man." Lance ordered, though Brock was technically his peer. "I don't trust you with the woman."

Ignoring Brock's pout and not waiting for a protest, Lance kicked Stone-Baron off Dragonite's back . Unconcerned whether he survived the fall or not, Lance directed his pokémon directly toward the lady in blue.

She gestured and Vaporeon followed, filling her lungs and blowing out a thick snowstorm. The Dragon Master didn't react, letting his Dragonite slam through the cyclone and taking cover from the ice behind the dragon's great head. Pushing through to the other end, the giant yellow pokemon smashed into the earth, tossing up the bodies of the dead, though Simomo and Vaporeon leapt clear.

Balanced even after the crash, Legend-Stalker wheeled off Dragonite and immediately lashed out with his dragon-headed halberd, but was countered by a well-wielded icepick. Dragonite rose from his crater and shook off the frost, only to be struck with the shivering rays of an ice beam.

"We have the type advantage." Said Simomo – who even Lance had to admit quite beautiful, in a distant, unliving sort of way – deflecting Crest-Holder's furious assualt.

Lance just laughed at her. "Advantage?" He howled, swinging his weapon broadly, driving her back, then charging with it straight to skewer his opponent. At the last moment he drove the shaft blade-first into the ground and swung wildly around, coming up at Simomo's unprotected flank. In hand he bore his triangular Steyr AUG, and the dread on Simomo's face was the first expression he'd seen there.

Pulling the trigger and spreading her brains, Lance gloated over the corpse. "You need to be some sort of winter _goddess_ to have any sort of advantage over _me_!"

Behind him, Dragonite finished melting the fish-like Vaporeon with his black dragon fire. Kicking Simomo's remains victoriously, Lance checked to see Brock's progress. Even as he did so, the sap moaned for bail.

"Um, Lance? A little help?" Stone-Baron pleaded, cowering behind the sturdy hide of his Onix, who was absorbing with groans of pain the combined attack of the last two sabateurs. Rainer had adjusted the nozzle of his hose to tighten the spray, pouring it into his Vaporeon's beam and doubling the strength of his ice beam. If either had noticed their mates were dead, they betrayed nothing.

Lance rolled his eyes and tugged his halberd from the ground. Changing his grip, he coiled up and threw the heavy shaft like a javelin. It pierced above the ribs, sending the mohawked man to the ground and letting the hose tantrum. Rainer made no sound and lay still as an ice block.

Vaporeon made no move to let up or retreat, and Dragonite took this a cue to attack, drawing to full height and gathering energy to launch a hyperbeam. Lance waved once to his pokemon to stop, and Dragonite let the energy dissipate. Making another hand gesture, Legend Stalker ordered Dragonite to use his dragon breath again. While the Dragonite finished off the helpless fish-dog, Lance walked over and turned off the switch for the hose.

Walking back towards the carts to check his guns, he passed Brock, who was still covering his head behind his recovering Onix.

"You're useless." Lance said, not stopping.

-- --

Gary was becoming very frustrated with this fight. He was used to the jar in his arm of steel striking steel, or the laughter of ignited bullets. He was particularly inclined to having an enemy physically in front of him, toiling their physical strength with his.

What he did _not_ enjoy was this needless gymnastic _show_ he was forced to put on. Both Sakura and Tomao stood well back, dancing out their attacks with their hands while he was left to dodge their ill effects. Young Sakura's psychic talent lay primarily with telekinesis, and was applying it to dart a set of large ball bearings through the air.

"Gah!" Gary spat, ricocheting one off the hilt of his sword. A silver flash at the edge of his eye, and he was bending beneath another steel ball. A sensation hit Gary's nose and to the side he noticed a distortion in the scenery, unrolling toward him like a freshly unravelled river.

He sprung forward as a wave of force passed dangerously behind him. Tomao, the more sinister elder sister, had a very... different form of attack.

Using whatever magic she possessed, she manipulated nothing other than the smell of blood itself, somehow gathering the odour and causing it to streak out with great physical force – a fact to which Gary could testify.

_It certainly is novel,_ he mused to himself, watching the distortion fade but leave the stench wisping. She was clearly using the smell from the Sea of Blood, and Oak quickly had learned to move away from it to force the witch to take longer with each strike, and deny her flexibility of attack.

Jarring his neck, Gary avoided the whistle of a ball going through his head. Humming at the nuisance, he resumed his dance.

Eevee was having more enjoyable fare. He fought playfully, delighting that Espeon and Umbreon struggled to understand why their attacks had so little effect on him. He bucked merrily into the other dog's ribs, sending them casually flying, wagging his brown tail at their impotent rage.

Watching the two battles was the boy, Mikey. He childishly held a big stick close to his body, watching for a moment where he might be useful. In the grass his Eevee bounded between his feet, also vigilant for the opportunity to contribute. The boy looked so foolish that Gary couldn't help but pity him.

"Kah!" Gary cried as a ball clipped where the neck met the shoulder. The blow was superficial, but it stung.

Eevee noticed that his master's bruise, and realised that he was being a bit selfish by taking his time. Side-stepping as the faerie-dog Espeon dove forward, it occurred to Eevee that there wasn't much fun to be had without a challenge.

Espeon coiled her hairless hide to make another attempt, but her brown furry opponent opened his cute little maw and wove before it a ball of shadows. Unused to physical engagement, Espeon was unable to dive out of the way and took the shadow ball directly to the face. As the mocking darkness swam over her, the otherworldly energies interfered with the manifest psyhic power charging her body, the unknowable world fracturing her world of knowledge. All that was left was a fried body, and Espeon was nowhere in it.

Sakura saw her dear pokémon's fate from her peripheral vision, and gasped, loosing focus her puppetry. Gary appreciated the slight reprieve. Tamao also turned her dark-ringed eyes to see Umbreon's smooth form slip forward like a stiletto.

Gary's Eevee knew what was coming, and lashed out with his tail, cracking Umbreon across his black jaw. Turning the brown dog slashed out with his paw, cutting into his foe's flank. Ichor spurted out. Umbreon showed his red teeth and struggled to bound forward and bite Eevee.

White light beamed from before Eevee's face, forcing Umbreon back, blinded. Flames of white energy rose of the pup's smooth brown fur, and the green grass rippled as the pokémon channelled volumes of hard power. Howling malevolently at the light, Umbreon cursed the bright sphere growing before Eevee's jaw.

Releasing the force, Eevee let loose a world-scorching hyper-beam. A train of white carved through the ground and collected Umbreon like so much grass, erasing the black dog in a pure luminescence. All that was left was a trench leading off for a mile.

Tamao was getting irritated. Turning to her sister, she snarled. "Will you tell you damn boyfriend to call for help already?!"

Despite herself, Sakura jumped defensively and blushed bloodily. "He's not my boy-" She started to deny, but could never finish the lie as Gary was upon her with his sword.

The dark magician raised her hands to try some new spell, but Gary had his AK-47 up and pulled the trigger. The barrel chortled deafeningly, exploding the eldest woman of the EV Team's head. She was quite dead, but Gary's last encounter with a wielder of darkness had left an impression, and he hacked her to bits to make sure.

Eevee trotted over, watching with raised brows his master's frantic chopping. Finally convinced that Tamao wasn't about to re-knit herself in a black cloud, Oak stopped to catch his breath. There was blood all over him, which made him smile in amusement. Good thing he'd already bought some new clothes – there was no Misty around to hose him down.

Wiping his sword on the grass, Gary straightened up to work chinks out of his back and smiled at Eevee. The pokémon smiled back. Together, they started to walk back across the green plains away from the Sea of Blood to reunite with the Resistance column. Hopefully Sabrina would notice and come to pick them up. Lance wasn't going to do them any favours.

"S-stop..." a weak voice commanded. Gary and Eevee paused and turned as one, surprised to see the contrite form of Mikey, waving his trembling branch threateningly. His Eevee was before him, totally unsure of himself, but standing firm. "You're not... not going anywhere."

Gary and Eevee exchanged glances, but couldn't bring themselves to laugh. Oak looked back. "What are you doing, hey?"

Mikey looked back between Sakura's red and purple kimono, the new scar Gary's pokémon had carved into the field, and the blood all over his target. He swallowed. So many things were tumbling within him – he wanted to cry, but knew he had to fight.

Eevee was scared. The two of them had grown soft under the constant protection of a large family of older siblings. Only now did Mikey truly wish he'd made a decision to evolve his pokémon – back then there had been too many options. Choose a Leafeon or Glaceon to expand the range of the family's abilities, or an Espeon to essentially tie himself to Sakura forever in the tradition of the EV Team? But now, any would have done, he just needed more power.

The poor boy and his pokémon were visibly shaking, and Gary just didn't want to kill him. He suddenly thought of Brock and his lost family, seeing that the boy had all at once lost his family _and_ a love.

Squeezing his eyes tiredly, Gary ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Looking down at Eevee, he saw the dog pick up the implied order. Eevee advanced as though to enter a battle, hoping to intimidate the youngsters into flight.

Their eyes caught onto the advancing dog, which had so easily killed Espeon and Umbreon, but neither Mikey nor Eevee broke. They were both starting to hyperventilate, however. Gary's Eevee stood tall before them, fully conscious off the huge gap in power. He felt no need to flaunt it.

Doom was fast encroaching on Mikey, and his eyes flickered hopelessly between his inexperienced pokémon and the monster he faced. But in the examination, he noticed... differences. It was natural for a stronger Eevee to be bigger and shinier, but Mikey's Eevee and Gary's were divergent in more ways than then normal variations within a species should allow. The opposing Eevee's fur was spikier, and his snout was longer, with a different set of teeth... things began to stack up.

"That..." Mikey breathed, barely audible. "Is not an Eevee..."

Eevee was surprised. "Eeee..." he intoned, impressed. Gary was likewise surprised at the child's perception. The kid knew his Eevees.

Gary scratched his chin. "My Umbreon evolved." He explained, feeling sorry for the boy. "First time on record, I think."

Mikey's terror was enhanced by his lack of understanding. "Evolved?"

"Yeah." Gary said, nodding. "Turns out an Eevee's most powerful form is the one where it can choose whatever fate it wants." He smiled dryly. "Its best choice is to be able to make any choice. From here it can go anywhere."

Looking down to his own Eevee, who obviously wanted to run far away from the super-Eevee before him, Mikey couldn't help but muse that his glut of choices were doing _him_ a fat lot of good. He wasn't even able to protect or avenge anything he loved.

"What's the point of that if you don't go anywhere?" He hissed with the most strength and bite he had thus far displayed.

The words struck Gary hard, and he felt the grass beneath him vanish for a moment. A little stunned at the words going around in his head, he turned around suddenly. "Go home, hey?" He said. It was taking all of Mikey's strength just to stand up to him – there was no way he could bring himself to attack. "If you don't have one, go make one."

Unfretted either way, Eevee followed his master as he began to walk away. True to Gary's expectation, the bent little Mikey was frozen to the spot, watching as the man who killed his love walked away. Leaving a boy that young on his own in Kanto was a death sentence itself, but Gary liked to think that he was letting him go.

-- --

Sighing, Ash fell onto the foot of his gigantic bed, wiping phantom sweat from his brow. Pikachu bounced up beside him, still abuzz with energy. Misty had been lying down trying to read a magazine, but couldn't focus in her excitement over her plan. When she saw her husband staring dully at the ceiling she put the issue down.

"What's up?" She asked. The Champion smiled and tickled her feet.

"Another rough day." He explained, sitting upright. Misty shifted on the broad satin sheets to come up behind him, Pikachu navigating the rolling ground happily.

"Hm?" She inquired, though she suspected that there had been problems in hunting Gary. And Brock! Brock was there too, she reminded herself, trying to focus on her wedding band as well.

Ash was quiet, and she snuggled up behind him, tying her arms around his body. He had been training hard and was still warm – she felt like wax against a burning wick, he was so comfortable. She saw over his shoulder that he was taking off his gloves, something he only did in their quarters. It gave her a strange thrill to know that the only people he touched with the skin of his palm were her and Pikachu.

Pulling off his black gloves and tossing them onto the chair where he had laid his cape, Ash weighed up telling Misty about the day. Will had informed him that Lorelei had stolen League money to waste on mercenaries – doubly a waste as they hadn't achieved anything, as Koga reported. Short on resources as it was, this embezzlement was unforgivable. Ash didn't want to deal with this headache on top of preparing for Gary's glorious second coming.

Misty reached up and pulled of his cap. Years ago, when he was a kid, that would have driven him ballistic, but when his wife did it, it was almost like he had taken it off himself. The small action strangely reminded him of the time, when she had basically won the first wars for him, that she came crying asking never to have to kill again. That had been the moment he swore never to let her seen the bad things any more.

"It's nothing."

Pouting into his cheek, Misty reached up and put her fingers through his black hair. Greasy and tangled though it was she found it in her heart to forgive him. Being totally ripped went a long way, she thought, pretending not to notice her hand sneaking its way inside his shirt.

_A bulging chest and arms like my thighs can say a lot_, she considered. _Though there's something to be said for that lean look – zero percent body fat..._

Her mind slammed shut on the thought of Gary's tall frame, and she forced herself to focus on the conversation. "Come on, tell me." She pressed, hitting his arm.

Ash looked over his shoulder at her and grinned roguishly. "Nah." He said in a challenging tone. The sound of that tone pipped Pikachu's interest, the yellow rat's ears flipping upright.

"Come oooon," Misty whinged, punching him again and sitting back. Ash turned around.

"Don't think so."

"Come _oooon._" She said smiling like a school girl. Pikachu watched their bizarre interactions with confusion.

"Make me." Ash said, raising his chin confidently. Darting forward, Misty tackled her husband to the mattress, going immediately for his sides. "Hey, stop it!" Ash demanded between laughs, before spinning the balance of power and retaliating with a tickle-assault of his own.

"Not until you tell!" Misty responded, giggling and kicking out like a dog. She rolled over him and tried under his armpits, and the pair was soon bucking around over the sheets. Pikachu plunged into the fun, torturing with teasing touches of his paws and lightning-bolt tail.

Misty knew the moment it became a challenge that Ash would never give the details, and amid the mind-glowing joy of the tickle-war the Resistance backer in her snapped her fingers in defeat. There might have been some news relating to Gary in... no! No, no thinking of Gary.

The rest of Misty was feeling washed by the playful encounter, like the care-free days of her childhood had fallen over her like a wave. Smiling uncontrollably, she grabbed Ash's big shoulders and he let her toss him, Pikachu caught in the throw. She sat on top of him, beaming down in victory as all three of them panted.

Ash looked her over. "Haven't seen you smile in a while." He muttered.

Eyes set together, Ash in Misty's azure and she in his brown, the brimming fun suddenly jumped track into something else. Falling into his lips, she kissed him long and hard, completely unconscious of the yellow pokémon caught between them.

"Pii-_kaa_!" Pikachu squealed, frantically trying to pull free as his masters rubbed against each other, squeezing the rat. They heard nothing, lost in the feel of Ash's bare hand against Misty's leg, and Pikachu struggled all the more.

The magic was snapped when the door opened boldly.

"Ash, did you hear-" May started without preamble, but was completely cut down by what she saw. Misty and the Great Kanto Trainer sprung apart in surprise, staring wide-eyed at the invader. Pikachu was just relieved to breath.

There was silence as May gaped hollowly for a several seconds before retreating. "Sorry, sorry!" She cried, as though trying to shout out the picture in her eyes, and shut the door with a slam.

Misty growled at the door. How _dare _that _bitch_ just _barge_ in here and ruin the mood! She was so glad that brown-haired hussy would be out of this marriage soon. Speaking of which, it was a good thing Ash hadn't noticed Bugsy's absence.

Stewing in her jealous anger, Wave-Hammer considered whether she should try and resume the amorous activities. With May's interruption, there might be too much on their minds... Ash solved her quandary by pushing her down on the bed and unbuttoning her shorts.

-- --

May's quarters seemed surprisingly small, though it was largely an illusion. She kept all the pretty things she'd won or bought or tempted from someone to one side, forgotten and packing two thirds of the space. The items she truly valued were kept at her desk (made from ash wood – hah!) – her ribbons, an old sleeping bag, a photo album labelled 'May's Expedition', rows of Max's books and a vase with a single rose.

Leaving the lights off, she sat down flatly, still shaken by what she'd seen and staring dully at the books in front of her. Ash despised learning from text, she dimly recalled, preferring to let biting experience tutor him. For her part she owed her prestigious skills to the training and battling manuals Max faithfully produced at regular intervals.

She secretly checked with any Team Rocket agent available to see if any new ones had been released – they weren't hard to come by, as the works of the famed Petalburg Gym Leader were highly regarded. Each one was poured over intensely, to the point she felt she could feel what her brother felt as he put word to pad. It was the last link to him she had open.

Groaning, May opened a drawer and lifted out a bottle of what was probably the most expensive whiskey around. Hitting it on the table with contempt, she couldn't yet force herself to snatch a glass.

Images still rolled across her face – the way he _touched_ her, his fervent, honest desire for that, that... his _wife_. All the times he had _played_ with May, accepting her seduction as a _challenge_ to pass time while he waited for that _wife_!

Her eyes always drifted to the rose. Not thinking, she reached over and pulled it from its place. Staring into the gluttonously coloured petals, the shade of her shirt, she thumbed the sneering thorns along the stem. It wasn't one of _his_ roses – they would have long since withered. Every day she had a fresh rose placed here, as a memento.

Suddenly the memories of the other Him grabbed down at her, and in May's desperation to ward them off she clutched the rose tightly. The thorns cut through her gloves and deep into her hand.

Gasping more from refusing tears than the pain, she watched with morbid interest as her rose-petal blood ran down the stalk. It dribbled on the table, probably staining the ash wood.

"You just love hurting yourself, don't you May?" She whispered hatefully.

-

-

**Author's Notes:**

Sorry for the long delay, computer problems, busy, a lot of stuff.

So. It appears that Vaporeons are actually water-types and not ice-types. Upon discovering this, I had two options. 1) Rewrite huge chunks of story for another two weeks to correct the mistake; or 2) Pretend it all works out. Guess what I chose.

Thought I forgot about that psychic–detection device from Chapter 4, right? Well, frankly, it never should have existed, but now it's gone. Gone forever!

I could have done more with the EV Team, but I thought I'd end them while I was ahead.

I've been waiting a long time to write the next part, let's hope it turns out how I hope.

Please Read and Review!

**Atrioc:** Well, thank you. Rest assured I will finish this fic – it's been in my head for years, and I'm going to get it out on paper. I guess the Deliah bit turned out alright, but I still felt the battle was lacking something. Ah well.

**Lyra Lynx:** Well, I hope this chapter shed some light on the Eevee mystery! There certainly are more chapters to come. Glad you like it!


	16. Grasping

**Disclaimer**: Perhaps you have devised this already, but I don't own Pokémon – Nintendo does. I am merely a hopeless, impoverished fan, spending his time writing pointless tales.

-

**Grasping the Moon**

Chapter 16 – Grasping

Sweating heavily, Tracey lifted his sword to desperately hold off another thunderous slash. Stumbling backwards, he struck out wildly to keep the assault at bay, but he merely delayed the inevitable. His opponent shot in and with a keen swipe tossed Tracey's weapon high into the air.

Wide open, Tracey could only stare in shock at the tip of the longsword as it hovered mockingly over his nose. He heard his sword fall into the tall grass somewhere behind him.

Gary laughed in triumph and pulled his sword back. Tracey breathed safely again, though he was still a little annoyed at Gary's bragging.

"Let me try again." He dared, feeling his manly pride throb. The taller trainer shrugged and backed off while the Watcher turned to pick through the orange grass. Eevee bound in from the sidelines to help.

After the Resistance entered into the savannahs of the Safari Zone, Tracey had approached his friend to ask for tutoring in close combat. No one had thought to blame him for the damage that the EV Team had done, but he nonetheless felt responsible. Conscious of how he had fared in the siege of Vermillion, Tracey was struck with how much he relied on the Resistance's strong men, and realised that he needed to be up to scratch, just in case.

"Ee." Came the muffled noise from Eevee's snout, as the dog held up the sword. Tracey smiled and took it.

"Thanks." He said, standing up to face the cocky Gary. He was fully cognisant that Oak would embarrass him again, but the man was the best swordsman to learn off. He knew how to fight – Gary was submerged in combat, relentless in pursuing... whatever it was he sought.

Taking a preparatory breath and trying to ignore the pounding sun, Tracey raised his sword to a basic stance Gary showed him and charged. With a smirk and a twist of the wrist, Gary sent his friend's sword flying again. Eevee smiled.

Staring dumbly at the sword disappear into the grass again, Tracey didn't react when Gary reached over and patted his shoulder. "There's no shame in it, hey – I'm the best there is."

Small comfort that was to Tracey, who couldn't even keep his sword in his hand. "How do you do that?!" He cried, adjusting his headband furiously. Gary tilted his head.

"You're holding onto your sword too tight." He explained, demonstrating on his own European blade. "When the metal clashes, it just bounces right out."

Tracey was surprised. "Too _tight_?" he repeated. So he was meant to hold the sword loosely? That seemed counter-intuitive. He went and collected his weapon.

"A lot of people do it." Gary went on as Tracey stared at his hold on the grip reflectively. "You get stressed in a fight and hold on too tight and then wham, no sword." Gary turned to where Eevee was watching, and Tracey's Scyther next to him. Nodding, the old Scyther knew to come over.

The bug wiggled his bladed arms to warm up, approaching his master. Tracey's blade-handling skill was on par with a Scyther toddler, and it amused the pokémon that he'd been teaching his master in a fatherly fashion. "Practice with your Scyther for a bit, I'm going to pick up those clothes from Team Rocket."

Gary turned and headed off, Eevee dutifully on his heels. Scyther stretched his chitinous legs, but Tracey stared after his friend, weighing his sword thoughtfully.

-- --

She had cleared all her invisible ninja aides out of the tent. Devoid of their unseen presence, Janine was suddenly aware of how excessively large the big top was, full of space she had no real need for. It was all show, a facade of League strength to assure onlookers of their continued might and inevitable success. How vain it all seemed now.

Tucked on her knees before the only truly personal item she possessed, she bowed heavily under the weight of her orders. Her family shrine, smoking from incense, towered over her, filled with the smells and ashes of a long line of ninjas. Janine had never been very religious, but always prayed to her ancestors. They were the only ones she felt would not condemn her, being murderers to a man themselves.

Muttering under her last confessions and pleas, she felt the light and sudden appearance of someone teleporting behind her. Slow footsteps approached.

"Don't do it." Will said.

"I have my orders." Janine answered, not facing him.

"Disobey."

A single laugh, hardened with years worth of bitterness, shot from her mouth. Gradually standing, she bowed respectfully to those she would soon be joining. Only then did she turn to face Will.

It was strange to see him without a cocky, all-knowing smirk. He was so tightly controlled that the worry freezing his shoulders didn't seep into his face. Nor could he hide the sleepless rings around his eyes.

In turn she found herself wondering what he thought looking at her. Her hair was a mess, she never took care of her skin, and she hadn't slept or eaten much, she'd been wearing these clothes for a week. Rubbing her face, she smiled foolishly; it had never mattered before whether she was beautiful. Was she still beautiful to Will?

"Slip something into his drink." Will suggested desperately, conscious that a life of ninja conditioning and tradition would tie her inescapably to orders. Studying Surge's notes brought so many alternatives to direct confrontation to mind. "Slit his throat in the night. Put a landmine under his sleeping bag."

All of those and more had already occurred to her – all the thousands of ways to kill a man easily. All the tricks – and now they fail her. She shook her head.

"This is insane!" Will exploded, darting forward and grasping her shoulders. He shook her as his composure cracked and fell away, his glasses shaken from their roost. He didn't fix them. "Poison is not meant to fight dead on!"

The ninja stared sadly at the psychic's fingerless gloves as they held her. "To break the Rebel's morale, their premiere fighter must be defeated head on by a League Gym-Leader." She said, quoting Lorelei verbatim. The key had never been the guns, but the Rebel spirit.

Fair-Tongue sneered at the thought of the Ice Queen. "I'll go."

"No."

"I'll go with you."

"No."

Lowering his face to her level, he forced her gaze into his vulnerable eyes. "Please."

"You don't understand." She said, gently pushing his hands off her. It was the hardest thing she'd ever done, and the second hardest she'd ever have to. "I am Crying-Sword, Quick-Dart, Young Strike, Poison-Heart." Janine looked down. "I am an indiscriminate killer – there is a perverse honour in that. That honour is all I have."

Will stared in silence, his eyes floating, unable to settle on anything. Janine watched the ground.

Straightening quickly, Argonaut adjusted his glasses and threw his scarf over his shoulder. Thus composed, with his defences up and the gate firmly shut, he glared down at the ninja.

"_All_ you have?" He hissed. Janine was quiet.

Stepping backwards, eyes still on the short woman, he put more stabbing distance between them. In a flash of white, he was gone.

Letting her breathe go, Janine wrapped her mask around her face. Perhaps the fabric would seal in any tears.

-- --

Despite... everything, the Safari Zone was still beautiful. Looking out over the long yellow grass, Tracey fancied it was an endless harvest of sun-stained wheat. Rings of Resistance troops were dotting the plain like crop circles pressed in by some alien hand, the Celadon Rangers looking displaced now that their green cloaks afforded them no camouflage. Beyond, faded by distance, the Safari Zone's distinct trees spread their arms against the cloudless sky.

Shielding his eyes from the direct sun, Tracey was amazed that even in all this open space he could see more wild pokémon in a single area of than he had in a long time. Over there, grazing carelessly close to the humans were a pair of Rhydon watching over their young Rhyhorn. The trees were rippling with Mankeys play-fighting with Aipoms. Far out, a herd of Tauros were being stalked by three sleek Persians.

_I suppose herding all the pokémon here for food wasn't such a bad idea_, Tracey considered smiling, his sword slung over his shoulder. While he waited for his pokémon to catch up, he watched the men take a hard-bought rest. Everything felt so pristine, even the dust, like the heat somehow preserved this microcosm.

Venonat buzzed merrily, happy to stretch his flimsy wings. He bobbed around Scyther's head, a pokémon whom Venonat looked up to like a hero. The green blade-bug endured the fly-like pokémon's affections with the patience of the aged. Marill bobbed her blue form through the grass and tugged cutely at Tracey's socks.

Looking down, Tracey smiled at the simple joys of his pokémon. "Come on."

Leading the small party towards a slight hill shaded with several trees, Tracey saw Gary's pokémon at a distance. Their 'games' looked suspiciously like battle training – Arcanine and Eevee were head-butting each other with equal power, which was comical to see considering their disparate sizes. Blastoise was wrestling with Lance's Dragonites, holding up surprisingly well in the heat. Nidoking was leaning against Onix, soaking up the sun with Nidoqueen resting against him. Nearby, Scizor was standing stock still, accumulating data next to Alakazam, who was meditating solemnly.

Splitting paths with his troop, Tracey headed for the top of the hill while Scyther led the pokémon to join the others. Ascending the pleasant incline, he noted the central nucleus of the Rebellion seated on a convenient spill of rocks, around a pile of wood ready to be lit for the chill of nightfall. Tracey was immediately distracted by Gary new threads.

He had a black collared shirt, revealing the long, strong arms that lengthier sleeves had hidden. Naturally, he wore the collar up. The canvas pants were an imperial purple, and his brown boots had been traded in for something between sneakers and school shoes. He looked like he was about to head out clubbing.

"Looking good." Tracey said to Gary, who was fiddling with his new wristbands, the same colour as his pants. The trainer looked up, his ying-yang necklace nestled clearly on his chest.

"I always do." He said with a smile. He was serious too. "How's the sword fighting, hey?"

Tracey sat down by Brock and laid his sword on the rock next to him. Sabrina was politely interested but quiet, while Lance was carving notes into the hard earth. "I think I've this sword-grip thing down."

"Oh?"

The Watcher nodded. "Hm. But I think you've been the one holding onto your sword too tight."

Gary gave him a plainly disbelieving look, while Sabrina's interest went from casual to actual. Lance glanced up.

"So you're an amateur, Oak?" He said with a mocking smirk. Gary sneered at the Dragon Master before looking back to Tracey.

"Is this one of your metaphors again?" He asked, not in the mood to decrypt Tracey's ramblings.

Tracey grabbed his sword and squeezed it tightly. "You're holding onto your dream of being the strongest too much." He explained. "You've got to loosen up a bit – you need more in your life than war or you'll lose even that."

Shifting uncomfortably, Gary tried to perceive Tracey's meaning. Rubbing his neck, he leant forward. "And what else should I be filling my life with?"

Replacing the sword, Tracey shrugged. "I dunno, get a girlfriend or something." Lance laughed, while Brock winced.

Gary burst to his feet growling, and pointed an accusing finger at Tracey. "I do _not_ like Misty like that!" He yelled.

Hands up to ward of the Pallet trainer, Tracey fell back in fear. "I didn't say anything about Misty!" He protested, hair in his face. Lance's scouring laughter increased.

"She's _married_!" Gary argued to the group in general, moving his ire from Tracey while Brock helped the Watcher up.

"To a military dictator." Sabrina said evenly.

"It's _Ash_!"

"Everybody likes somebody." Tracey reasoned, sitting upright again with Stone-Baron's help. The ex-Gym-Leader was strangely quiet, but hissed at Tracey's words. Hands rumbling in attempt to vocalise, Gary suddenly pointed out Sabrina sitting quietly on her rock.

"What about the stoic here? Miss Almighty Psychic? You can't tell me she's ever had time for a boyfriend!" At this point, Sabrina proceeded to blow Gary's mind by blushing and looking away shyly.

Brock shifted and rubbed his boots. "A lot of guys like the dark, creepy type." He explained. Unwilling to contemplate the idea of Sabrina on a date, the inside of Gary's skull descended into frustrated chaos. Snarling vocally, the tall man fell hard back onto his rock. "Don't be such a jerk; you should take love where you can get it."

Tracey and Gary glanced at the Rock Trainer, suddenly fitting together his recent animosity towards Gary. Here everyone was trying to force a love-life on the Pallet trainer while Melissa was dead. It must be hard on him.

"I can't be like that." Gary said in a low voice.

"Why not?" Sabrina said, speaking up though still red-faced. "We're all just people in the end." At these words, Gary emitted a strangled noise and curled.

"None of you know what its like to be me!" He growled, bracketing his head with his hands. "_I'm _meant to be the child of fate; _I'm _supposed to be the special one!" He said, changing the topic in a strange way. Tracey and Sabrina exchanged a look. "If I get distracted, it'll all slip through my fingers!"

Moving forward and extending a hand to calm his friend down, Tracey said. "That's not what I mean..."

Gary raised his head. "It all comes so easily to him! I have to keep pushing, always fighting, fighting, fighting..."

"What are you talking about?" Tracey interrupted, instantly recognising he was talking about Ash. Gary was a little unclear on the facts – everything that had come to Ash had not come _that_ easily. Lance had stopped chuckling abruptly and was listening in darkly. "Ash did all that with Misty right there..."

This apparently plucked a string the wrong way, and Gary was on his feet again, pacing mindlessly. "I'm not Ash!" He cried. "I was born into a rich, famous family with a tradition of greatness. _He_ was the son of a forgotten single mother in a small backwater town." Gary waved his hand as though indicating Pallet Town. "He would have been a success if he got a steady job, worked hard and found a wife and family who he loved." He stopped and looked down at Tracey, on whom he was focussing this outpouring. "I _have_ to be great; I _have_ to be the best. But somehow destiny has turned it all around on us."

In the face of this exposed offense from the floor of Gary's soul, Tracey found words hard to form. Obviously Oak had deeper problems than a fear of vulnerability.

"Gary..."

Ignoring his friend, Gary wringed the hilt of his sword and turned away. "Fate has _cheated_ me. We make our own futures." He muttered hulking off, leaving the others to exchange high eyebrows.

-- --

Things were pretty boring around here without Will around, May reflected. Looking down the long halls of the Indigo Plateau palace, eyes rolling frictionless over the invisible army of servants keeping things running, she couldn't help but wish that the bespectacled geek would make a snide remark. Sighing, she pressed on, ignoring the gazes from the male staff.

Ash had requested her as sparring partner in another endless training session, and she had complied more from habit than desire. Getting hot and sweaty with Ketchum was theoretically great, but she already knew it would go nowhere. The accidental intrusion the other night sufficiently shook her faith in her seductive influence over him. She found her mind falling on other men she had... liked.

_This is no good_, she thought, sub-consciously drawing a strand of hair into her mouth and chewing. _I can't be distracted. Eyes on the prize!_

This is why it would be good to have Will around. It would be nice to have male company that she was certain wasn't 'right' for her. Besides, there was something comforting about having a bookish guy around dispensing useless knowledge. Laughing through her nose, she realised why – he was a lot like Max.

Wondering where the psychic was, May's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a hideous noise. Dropping her bangs from her mouth, she looked up to see _her_ singing pleasantly. The mere thought of the one who had what she couldn't exhibiting joy made May angry.

_That's Frank Sinatra as well_, May noticed, decoding Misty's off-key crooning. The Elite Second was a big fan. _Damn it_.

Adding 'ruining a classic' to the crime of 'being happy', May stalked her orange-haired rival from behind.

"Flyyy me to the mooon, and let me plaaay among the staaars..." The water trainer sung, messing up every note and dancing poorly. May rolled her eyes.

"You sing like your chest – flat." She said, surprising the taller woman. Misty turned, and May was surprised that her sudden appearance didn't break the other woman's mood. The ex-Cerulean trainer stuck out her tongue and pulled the bottom eyelid, catching the brunette off guard.

Smiling broadly and leaning down, Misty spoke to May as to a little child. "Don't be such a sour puss."

Not enjoying Misty strangely joyous gait, May sent a dark look up at her opponent. She'd wanted remain and banter insults, but Ash was waiting, and wrestling with Misty's husband would probably get to the bitch more than anything May could say.

Silent, the Elite Second walked off, leaving Misty behind. Watching the interloper leave, Misty waited for that teeth-gratingly perfect physique to disappear around the corner before letting out a sigh of relief. Double checking that no eyes were taking note, she turned and opened a nearby door. Unable to keep the smile off her face, she slipped inside and quickly sealed the entrance behind her.

Inside was one of the thousands of generic meeting rooms all around the Plateau. There was the typical master-crafted oak table, ringed by trees of the same timber, dressed with satin cushions. The meeting table was ten feet long, and at the other end were two men. The first, standing uncomfortably close behind the other, was Bugsy, grin dripping with queasiness, who surprised Misty by being good for something.

Seated nervously and looking up at Misty as she came in was the man she had heard so much about. His face was attractively laid out, and amazingly, as his bright purple clothes clashed viciously with his unnaturally green hair, he was very much a looker.

_Hmm, Gary's got some competition in the pretty-boy front, _Misty noted, before realising her mistake. Once she stopped cracking her head against the wall, she noticed she had put Drew even more out of his skin.

"Hi." She said, waving. The water trainer approached and sat up on the desk just in front of her guest, hoping to seem more casual. Instead, her elevation and height caused her to tower over Drew and intimidate him further. "I'm Misty." She went on, extending her hand.

The green-haired man eyed the hand as though it was filled with trickery like a stuffed ham. Slowly, he took it.

"What do you want with me?" He asked, assuming they already knew who he was.

Misty smiled awkwardly. "Well, you see, I have a tinsy problem that I think you'd benefit from helping me fix."

Drew looked up at her from under his brow. "It's about May, right?" He said darkly.

The lack of enthusiasm in his response flattened Misty's good mood. She glanced at Bugsy who only shrugged, his interest in all this rather detached. Pulling in air and twiddling her fingers, the tall woman decided to barge on.

"Well, your May is trying to get her greasy nails into my husband." Misty explained, patting her thigh. "And I happen to know she still carries a torch for you, so I was thinking, y'know..." She trailed off, whipping her hands around as though illustrating the exchange of relationships she was after.

She was prepared for straight rejection, she had mapped out conditions and rewards, but what Misty hadn't thought of was the stare of rank disbelief.

"I'm _sorry_?"

Misty, in desperation, looked to Bugsy. The man-woman grinned in silent laughter at her plight. Misty looked down at Drew again meekly.

"You know..." she said in a small voice, compelled to answer. "Draw off her attention and..."

"You're all insane." The pretty boy said with edge. "Absolutely insane."

The handsome man stood up, looked insulted and disgusted. Misty was surprised, but froze as a chilling realisation came over her. Suddenly she saw things from Drew's perspective.

Here he was, haunted every step of his life. His old childhood friends and loves were not only national dictators murdering their own country, but out to do the same to all the others. Drew must have always had an eye over his shoulder, fearing that his past associations would spring into the present and draw him into their madness.

Gut squeezing as she stared across at Drew, who was now at eye-level with her, Misty realised that she had bundled him up, forced him into a war zone and scared him to death, simply to try and alleviate her jealousy. She felt much smaller than she was.

"You are insane." He repeated, spreading his hands on the table menacingly. "You are insane to think that I would come here and seduce a girl I had a crush on when I was _ten years old_. I haven't seen her in years, mainly because she decided – what was it? – to help a _psychopath_ to _murder millions_." He pointed. "_Your_ psychopath."

Misty could only squeak in return, so Drew went on as Bugsy watched in amusement.

"I have a fiancé now." The contest trainer revealed, straightening. "We're getting married at the end of this year. I have a job – my modelling career's going to take off soon, I know it." He glared at Misty, his current symbol of the lunacy of Kanto and spat: "I've moved on."

There was now something more terrifying about Drew than his anger, from which Misty shirked, staring with tall eyes. The model turned violently and stomped, and at his heightening fury, Bugsy gave Misty a look. She waved him down – Drew probably didn't need to be subdued yet.

"This is sick!" he said, his rant cressendo-ing. "You're holding onto your childhood so desperately – this is some perverse clone of how we wish it was!" Suddenly capping his anger, he gripped the corner of the table and took it out on the wood.

Unsure of herself, Misty poked her head forward. "So you won't do it?"

Drew's eyes rolled starkly over his shoulder and Misty felt stupid. Huffing finally, the model stormed out of the room. He would need Bugsy to get back home, but the bodyguard remained behind to smile a 'Well, that went well' smile to his charge. Misty ignored him and tried to regain her balance. It was hard.

-- --

_That's just like Ash, _May growled to herself, retracing her steps. _Tells me to turn up but doesn't say where_.

Peeved that the Champion had failed to specify that he'd be training in the stadium rather than outside, she redoubled her pace back through the palace's endlessly cutting corridors. Hoping she wouldn't have to volley cat-scratches with Misty again, she suddenly collided with someone.

"Watch what you're-" She rebuked as she fell back, but the words went to mist as she looked up and saw the beautiful man she'd tumbled into. May knew in her heart it was Drew before she even took in all the various features that identified him. The suavely flowing green hair, like the vines hanging from a cliff, his jaw a smoothed river stone, his face assembled like a piece of art, his smell of wild forest fruit. She couldn't breathe.

Nor could he, and it was clear in his moss-green eyes that he recognised her just as quickly. Caught in a paralysing force that no power on the world could break them from, they stared in open shock at each other, buried years of pre-pubescent flirting playing as competition, sexual tension and adventure dazing them. Lips quaking, May, by supreme force of will, inched her hand forward, trying to see if the Drew before her was real.

Suddenly he seemed to remember something, a ringed finger twitching, and the model spun and sprinted as far as he could. May stared after him, still entranced by his glamour.

When he was gone, perhaps forever, she found her self able to move and feel. Training forgotten, she fled immediately back to her quarters, the realisation burning her mind that this was the first time he had left her without throwing a rose.

-- --

Gary was regretting his emotional explosion earlier. Indeed, he had surprised himself at how much the 'Misty situation' was getting to him. Gary had experienced casual attractions to women before, but he'd always been able to set them aside for the dream. In the end this was simply a harder challenge of the same order – one he would overcome.

Still, he shouldn't have said all that personal stuff to the others. Ah well.

Wandering the savannah, trying to escape the heat, he had left his pokémon to play so he could spend some time to himself. Seeing a tree, he approached. Gary only hesitated a moment when he saw that Snap was relaxing underneath it.

Dragging a long pull of smoke, the mercenary took the cigarette from his mouth as he turned to watch Gary approach. He blew the smoke around Oak's shins.

"Hey."

"Hey." The red haired sniper responded. His rifle was nestled against him like a bed mate.

Without asking for permission, Gary spread himself over the cool stones and stared up at the sky, filtered through the arms of the tree. Snap rolled his head and replaced his smoke.

It took a few tries, but eventually Gary managed to engage the sniper in conversation. They chatted lightly about heavy things as they stared through the tree, building the numbingly beautiful feeling of time cascading by while they stayed rested and eternal in the midst of it. Gary recalled Misty somewhere mentioning that he had been a photographer, so he asked about that.

"When you take a photo," Snap explained, his tone decidedly bored for a topic for which he clearly had so much passion. "You take a piece of the world – some unspeakable, beautiful thing summed up in a single image. A fragment of life, a whole mythology."

Gary was a scientist, not an artist and had trouble seeing how a photograph could be all that, but Snap's high flown speech was infectious. It was interesting to see the ideals that drove a man as earthy and corrupt as Snap. "Do you think you'll ever go back to photography?"

"No!" Snap cried decisively, springing to sitting position. "No! Never."

"Why?"

"The most powerful image, the biggest piece of the pie -" Snap picked up his rifle and set his sights on a long-necked Giraffig grazing from a distant tree. "Is the image of a person or pokémon's last moment through the scope of a rifle." His cigarette burned through to the end, and he spat it out. "They could be a great man, a useless Magikarp, whatever, but the picture sums it all up. They're just flesh and blood after all." Swinging the rifle around, Snap pointed the long barrel at Gary. "Another one waiting to be a corpse."

Used to guns being pointed at him and reasonably sure that Snap wouldn't shoot without being paid first, Gary was still uncomfortable looking down that long corridor into darkness. The abyss down that steel tube seemed to pull, drawing in all meaning and substance until all that was left was...

Shaking the effect off, Gary raised his eyes. "If it's so philosophical for you, why do you only shoot when you're paid?"

Thankfully, Snap returned his gun to his shoulder.

"Don't you get it?" He said, taking a box of cigarettes from his pocket. "Money is nothing, people are nothing! Nothing for nothing!" Gary didn't get it, and that must have been clear on his face. "Psh!"

Watching Snap lay down, lighting his cigarette as he did so, Gary mused that in a way, Snap was somewhat admirable. His entire life was coiled around a distant, impenetrable ideal, and he needed no other human affectations. Companionship, goodness, love... he was beyond them all. Hovering invisible, bringing swift death without warning – in some ways he was more than a man, he was like a god.

Rubbing his head at the strange thought, forcing it out forever, Gary realised that Snap was no deity. He was a pathetic little man holding onto nothing. But how were the two of them so different? Was it better to be a man or an ideal?

All this was too confusing for Gary and he decided to keep on talking. "So I guess Kanto has been a wonderful opportunity to get some nice shots."

The sniper laughed. It was a chipping sound. "Yeah, I've got a great one lined up; I'm going to turn the Champion of all Kanto into worm bait."

Even in the Safari Zone heat, the blood in Gary's veins froze. Eyes wide, he looked across at the sniper, whose hair now looked like the horns of a devil. "What?"

"Y'know, the bigwig, Ketchum or something."

Gary could scarcely believe it – the thought of Ash walking down a hall, that broad naive grin on his face, only for it to explode without fight seemed so unfair, so _wrong_. Anger seized up his arms.

But he controlled himself. Snap was just tool; somebody was paying him to do it. Who was writing the cheque? Obviously, the same person as always – Brock.

Snap's eyes eased open as he heard Gary sling to his feet. He watched silently as the trainer threw himself forward and charged off. It was the sniper's turn to not understand, but in his case, he simply didn't care. Settling back, Snap resumed enjoying the quiet and his cigarette.

-- --

Brock wasn't with the others anymore – he had gone off to deal with Team Rocket. Fuelled by anger and an odd sense of betrayal, the brown-headed Oak didn't cease his hunt until he saw Crumble-Heart with the dastardly trio near a patch of trees.

As he approached, he overheard some of their conversation.

"So the boats will be waiting for us?" He asked again, emphasising how important it was that the Resistance not be forced to wait.

"Absolutely, absolutely!" Jesse and James assured in unison, waving their hands.

"Da Boss is really keen to have ya!" Persian lied, a feline grin on his face.

There was a flash of red light, and large blue blob saluted earnestly. "Wooobuffet!" the pokémon vowed before being absorbed back into his ball by a long-suffering Jesse.

"Brock!" Gary roared, defiant of any plans the trainer may have been laying. He was massaging the grip of his sword in rage. "What the _hell _is wrong with you!"

Team Rocket seemed to have magically shrunk five feet backwards at the sound of danger, the criminals knowing when to keep out of a situation. They also knew when to listen in for juicy, _expensive_ info. Brock looked irritated.

"What now?"

Gary wasted no time in snatching Brock by the vest with his free hand. "You hired Snap to _kill_ Ash?"

Offense and challenge overrode Crumble-Heart's need to flee that name. He leaned in and raised the volume of his voice to match Oak's. "Of course I did! You're a smart guy, it makes sense, right?"

Shoving the heavier man back, Gary jabbed his thumb back at himself. "Ash is _mine_! No one else can have him!"

"You're so selfish, Gary!" This time Brock grabbed Gary. Jesse and James winced at such a _fabulous_ new shirt getting wrinkled. "You get the girl, do you need the glory too?"

"He's_ mine_!"

"Can't you be satisfied that he'll be dead? With humiliating him by taking his wife?"

"I don't want the girl and I don't want him _dead_!" Gary cried punching the olive man. Brock was too sturdy to feel it, but stumbled back. Team Rocket looked like they wanted to be elsewhere.

"Then what _do_ you want?"

Gary wavered for a second, then remembered the foundation of his life. "I want to _kill_ him!"

Brock was about to retort when a lance of white goo shot forth from among the trees amid an explosion of leaves. It latched to Gary's arm, pulling it wide. A split second of shock passed as they stared, before turning to action.

Ninjas in dusty orange rose up from the tall grass, and Team Rocket made a break for it, having long since learned that combat was not their forte. More assassins emerged like magic from behind rocks and trees, surrounding the two Resistance fighters.

Going for his pokéballs, Brock realised that he had left his pokémon to play with the others. Gary drew his sword, and the Stone-Baron was about to follow suit with his pistol when a dozens more ropes of web burst from the trees, tying down his arms.

Gary hacked at the sticky goo on his arms, but no sooner had he cut himself loose then more webs rocketed forth and ensnared him. Unable to fight against his bonds, he was torn from his feet and pull into the outcrop of trees, leaving behind Brock to fight on by himself.

Bouncing off several trees, Gary pressed teeth in pain. Mankeys scattered.

At last he was dragged into the dirt. He could feel on his neck hairs the clicking presence of a large Ariados, but couldn't spare the time to open his eyes, cracking out of the way as at least three swords buried themselves in the ground. Spinning to his feet he saw four ninjas leaping back to the trees and launching towards him, the large spider pokémon spearheading the assault.

Cursing the fact that Eevee was far off and unaware, Gary bounced back from the Ariados' venomous pincers. The ninjas swung their straight-swords but Oak masterfully slipped around the slashes, having unwelcome flashbacks to his fight with the witch and the psychic the other day.

Suddenly Gary jerked against his web-chains. The Ariados was pulling in the long white strands, her eyes greed to impale him on the horn over her head. Seizing the opportunity, the ninjas swept in for the second assault.

Twisting to one side, Gary had the first attacker severe the webs. The white ends sizzled.

_Poison! Or acid?_ Gary thought, pushing back. He spaced himself to only barely escape the follow up blow, freeing his arms. As the white ties fell to the tree-soil, he warded off a black blade with his long sword while grabbing a ninja with his free hand.

Twirling his opponent into a tree, he broke the assassin's arm and kicked him in the back of the head, sandwiching it between foot and tree trunk. The next ninja attacked, and Gary gave ground, backing suddenly into a tree.

Something bit into his neck and Gary cried out. "Dammit!"

Looking back, he saw a small Spinarak on the tree. There were Spinaraks on all the trees, glaring at him, poison dripping from their fangs.

The two ninjas attacked, and Gary was sent stumbling. His arms felt weak, his eyes were getting blurry. His foes didn't relent, and he lifted his AK-47, spraying bullets through them.

"You're doomed, Oak." A woman's voice floated through the trees. Squeezing the trigger, Gary finished the last ninja off, and sprayed bullets towards the voice's origin. He heard no sounds of death.

"There is no peace in war." The voice went on, from somewhere else. More ninjas appeared, though Gary could not tell how many – in his weakening eyes a dozen could easily be a couple and vice versa. "Kill everyone and you are nothing but a killer. There is no prize."

"Shut up!" Growled, annoyed. He tried to load a new clip, but his hands were flimsy and fumbling. Sudden pain shot up his arm, and he saw various darts embedded into his flesh. Nausea flared up and his limbs went weak. More poison.

Tearing the projectiles loose, Gary knew to retreat. Scrambling as fast as his numb legs could move, he pushed through the trees, barrelling through anyone he encountered. He accumulated more bites and cuts and the effects of the poisons were growing – his motor control was shot and he was nearly blind. The whole world had taken on a pink colour.

"There is nothing for us, Oak." The woman said, as though right in his ear. Her voice followed him as he tumbled over roots and between trees. "We are tools, tunnels through which murder travels."

"Shut up!" He screamed, his jaw becoming unstuck.

A change in light told him he was out of the trees, but things shifted in front of him and he knew there were ninjas in the grass. Bellowing a war-cry, he charged in, sword up. He couldn't see and his technique was terrible, but running purely on instinct and will he hacked and chopped, somehow overcoming those who stood against him.

Some frazzled, overloaded sense told him more were attacking – spiders and ninjas surrounding him and let loose.

"We're not people Oak, we're more like pokémon." The voice glided over the tall grass waving on his pants. "We just fight – that's all we are. And when there's no fight, there's just a pokéball."

"I am a person!" Gary cried, but immediately contradicted his words. "I am not a person!"

Throwing himself like a madman in to combat, he spoke speeches in each stroke. Burying himself in violence he fled from humanity. He had to be better than human, more than that. He had to overcome, climb to the top, reach the stars and snag the moon in his hand. No more would Tracey look at him as a man, or Misty see through him.

Oh no, Misty.

Screaming the face out of his head, he cut and slashed harder and more blindly than before. There was so much pink.

-- --

Crouched in the grass, Janine watched grimly as Oak slaughtered her men. He should have died moments after the poisons first entered his body, but by whatever magic, there he was in a cloud of blood. His form was horrible, he had no control over his limbs, he was isolated from all help – he had been broken down as much as she could manage, and yet he was too much even for an entire kill team?

She wasn't surprised, though. There was something undefeatable in Gary Oak, dwarfed only by the thing in Ash Ketchum.

Listening to his jibberish screams, she could detect the occasional claim to humanity or divinity. Watching him like this, he reminded her so much of all the killers who claimed that there was some mystic goal to fighting, an end to the path of killing. Janine scoffed at the thought.

_We are not human, that is why we __always fight_, she mused. _Always fight and never win._ She considered projecting her voice and saying more of the script they had prepared to throw Oak off-balance psychologically, but the words wouldn't reach him now.

Feeling hollow, Janine couldn't help but wish that Will would surprise her and teleport in, making her face warm with flattering come-ons. But that was impossible now.

A switch flicked in Janine's chest, and she looked to the side. She saw nothing, but knew he was there – her father, Koga. He was here watching, waiting for her to do her duty. Heaven owed her no favours, she couldn't win – all that was left was to show Daddy that he had raised a warrior.

Checking her facemask, Janine stood up to enter the fray.

-- --

The pink was getting into his brain and into his limbs, and it couldn't have been paralysis because he was still fighting. Any skilled swordsman could see the confusion in his blade, but still he succeeded, cutting down men with his long sword and crushing noses with his rifle-butt.

Gary couldn't tell one kill from the next, his mind was so addled with drugs and venoms. Over the shoulder of each man cut he saw Misty standing, glistening in pink. She said nothing, didn't even look at him the wrong way, but still her presence made Gary asked himself 'Why did I kill this man? Why this one too?'

His desperation moved slowly from his need to survive to the emotional turmoil inside. He wanted her, dammit, he had to admit he wanted her so bad – and it was _so wrong_. Everything before had been so simple and pure – win win win, reach the magical heights of warfare. This desire for her had _tainted_ that.

And Ash, what would he think? And which of them would have betrayed him the most?

All at once he was aware that the field was suddenly empty. The bodies strewn everywhere were just part of the ground – he had only two opponents left.

Scuttling swiftly, Ariados lunged at him. To weak to stay upright, Gary fell back, but rolled the arachnid off him before her pincers could dig into flesh. The pokémon turned and attacked again, but Gary pierced her head with his sword, cracking the hard chitin.

A feminine cry erupted behind him, and in a moment his vision cleared save for pink fringes. A female ninja, the last one, born down on him with her sword overhead, aiming to finish him in one blow. Some crossed wire in his brain associated this image with the thought of the Resistance leaders bearing down on him with all their demands of humanity.

"Fine." He muttered, twisting to spring forward. "I'll admit it."

With strength beyond his limits, he roared forth to meet her. Tears in his eyes as he lashed out, he made his confession.

"I want to see her again!" He screamed. The blades clashed, and one was tossed high in the air. Before the errant blade was swallowed by the grass, Gary slashed again and took Janine's head from her shoulders.

The plain quiet at last, if not Gary's mind, the Pallet trainer collapsed to the ground with the decapitated body. Exhausted, hurting and woefully sick, Gary could only move to draw in breath, and even that was an agony. Gasping, Oak wondered how a skilled fighter like the ninja could be disarmed so easily, but then realised she had been holding her sword too tight.

-

-

**Author's Notes**

Argh, that didn't work out how I wanted at all. All those little things that change as you write out a story really made my intention difficult here. Sorry it was so forced, I suddenly realised that Janine could kill Gary easily, and I needed a reason for her to fight directly, and all I had was that thin excuse.

If the Gary-crazy-drug-internalised-struggle thing was a bit weird, I'm sorry. What was in my head wasn't what was on paper. I also didn't lead into it well, or explain the issue well either. Argh, not such a good chapter.

Will and Janine's romance was something I never initially planned – it just arose from the writing itself. I thought it worked out pretty well for the tale.

Please Read and Review!

**Redheadthegirl:** I'm glad the elemental issues are resolved in your mind. I've said to myself I'll finish this, and finish I will!


	17. Blizzard 1

**Disclaimer**: Perhaps you have devised this already, but I don't own Pokémon – Nintendo does. I am merely a hopeless, impoverished fan, spending his time writing pointless tales.

-

**Grasping the Moon**

Chapter 17 – Blizzard

Part 1

High on Indigo Plateau, within the walls of Indigo city and amid the towers of the Palace was a web of gardens. A cutting contrast to the endless tall halls, draped in regality and widened with empty space, the gardens were short and packed. Greenery from all over the continents, pricked with blooming colours.

Scuttling among the grasses were pokémon of a thousand varieties. Leaf-haired Oddishes, galloping Nidorans – all led a merry existence within the gardens, with no shortage of space to explore or abundance to eat of. Presiding over this leafy court was Ash's Ivysaur, king of the greens.

The peace of this domain was pleasantly cracked by an argument. The affectionate clash of words rebounded off the trees and bushes, sending a Bulbasaur scurrying to give the couple their privacy.

"We had steak last night!" Misty rebuked tenderly, running her hand through Ash's hair. She'd have to wash it later.

"You can never have enough steak." The Champion responded from his spot on his wife's lap. Pikachu, lolling lazily beneath their bench, piped up with a 'pika!' of agreement.

Rolling her eyes, Misty smiled. She was sitting with Ash laying across her, a flat pool spread before them like a picnic blanket. The gardens had been a Christmas gift from Ash years ago, and she far preferred to spend time here than in the palace's cold marble. And since her husband had a break from his usually harsh schedule, she had decided to make use of the opportunity.

Thankfully Bugsy had been told to go take a walk, so the pair was alone, though she felt strange being so happy with Ash after her conversation with Drew. His words about moving on from their childhood kept running through her head. She didn't know what to think.

"Can we at least have dinner in a smaller room this time?" She asked, mindlessly continuing the conversation/debate.

She could feel Ash shake his head against her legs. "It seems such a waste to not to use that huge hall."

"It's not very cosy in there."

Ash laughed. "Well, if it's cosy you want -"

Suddenly the Great Kanto Trainer cut himself short. Misty looked down to see what was wrong, and saw his eyes locked into the bushes somewhere. Pikachu had roused from his nap and was similarly on edge. For a moment, she thought Bugsy must have been spying on them.

But she was wrong, and in a sudden flash a blue-haired man was kneeling before them, tense for action. A short red cape flowed over his shoulders.

"Sir." Koga said with urgency. "I request permission to avenge my daughter."

Misty blinked. Janine? What had happened to Janine? Ash's face folded with sudden anger.

"No!" He growled, causing Misty some surprise. "I forbid it."

Koga, who had never hesitated to follow an order in his life, shook minutely and actually lifted his head. "But sir..."

Ash launched himself out of Misty's lap and onto his feet, leaving his wife further stunned. It had been a long time since she had seen him so angry. Her husband jabbed his finger at the ninja.

"I gave you your orders." He barked. "You are not to kill him. Gary is _mine_!" Fear pulled Misty's chest – Koga had been tracking Gary? How much did he know?

Frozen in loss, Koga dallied a moment, before tensing quickly. "Yes, sir." He said weakly, before disappearing again.

Misty watched silently as Ash calmed himself down, her heart thumping at the mention of Pallet's other hero. She should have been relieved to know that Koga apparently didn't know about her dalliances with the other side, but... Here she was at ease while Gary was killing ninjas and piling up enemies. And Ash – when had he ever been this cold?

The Champion turned grinning and returned to her lap. As she stroked his hair absently, wondering how well she really knew her husband.

-- --

The Seafoam Islands were white. The mountains and tunnels were white, the snow they wore was white, the wash of the sea was white, and the air itself was a constant blizzard. Sometimes it seemed strangely pure, clean and beautiful to a degree too great for humans, biting at weak flesh with harsh but benevolent goodness.

Despite wearing five layers of thermal clothing, Marcellus stuck his gloved hands under his armpits. The dribble from his nose froze in the cold, and he found himself wishing he was elsewhere. Then he marked the occasion mentally; he had taken to tallying in his journals every time he desired to be elsewhere. Today he was up to thirty.

A cry crawled over the whistling gale, and Marcellus leaned over the rail to see some sailors waving at him from below.

"The eggheads called!" One started, but the rest was lost in the wind.

"Hold on, I'm coming down!" Marcellus shouted back, and hurried down the steep narrow stairs, relishing the chance to get the blood flowing.

Now closer, the sailor could relate the rest of the news. "They're going to be gone another day or two. They're a little snowed in."

Marcellus grumbled. Sometimes these researchers just didn't understand what the sailors had to put up with. It would be a bother for any ship to act as the base for some scientific expedition, but it was worse when navy vessels, which could easily be fighting in the civil war, were employed for this sort of action.

Shaking his head, he looked to his men. One, a Machamp, was suffering particularly from the cold. "Alright, I'll tell the Captain."

"No need for that, Marcellus." Said the man in question. The first mate turned to see Captain Stern's tall form, the ornate cap on his head and a pipe somehow smoking in this weather.

The sailors saluted. "I'm just frustrated with the brains trust, Captain." The first mate argued. "Surely we have better things to be doing?"

Removing his pipe, Stern shook his head. "Orders are orders." He said. "Besides, consider the scientist's point of view – out in this weather."

Shivering as the winds picked up, Marcellus saluted again. "On that note, maybe we should get inside, Sir?"

A smile crossed the Captain's stiff face, one which the crew recognised as charitable. Indoors there were Slugmas burning with refreshing warmth, waiting to ease the frost-bitten. Before he could answer in the affirmative, he was interrupted by a cutting voice that passed through the blizzard as though it were calm air.

"Remain a moment." She said. The crew and their officers turned to see a female shape approach through the clean white. Eyes wild with sudden lust, the sailors edged forward to see the first woman they had seen in months.

They were sorely disappointed when a Jynx slipped through the wind-snow, her night-black skin and obscenely large lips a blemish on the unmarked white of the Seafoam Islands. The crew, pokémon and human alike, recoiled.

Another silhouette faded into view, this one of a human female. She was tall with a manly stride, her long purple hair bleeding into the white snowstorm and the lenses of her glasses like blocks of ice. Somehow she seemed unaffected in the cold with only a navy coat on. The drool on the sailor's lips froze and stopped as soon as they realised that they were looking at Lorelei, the Elite Fourth.

As they froze into attention, the Ice Queen approached Captain Stern, her Jynx before her like a valkyrie dwarf.

Stern was reverently crisp when he spoke. "Ma'am! We were not aware-"

"I am commandeering this vessel." She cut him off, drawing closer. The sailors glanced at each other and Marcellus' eyes flicked to his direct superior's face – but the Captain betrayed no expression. Would even a member of the Elite Four dare commandeer the League flagship?

"Ma'am." Captain Stern began, treading carefully. "With all respect, we would need word from-"

His reply was cut short as the Frozen Maiden raised a pistol and shot Stern through the head. The crew jumped at the crack of the weapon, the first mate's eyes wide. Marcellus' fear was further squeezed as Lorelei turned her eyes on him.

"Congratulations on your promotion, Captain." She said to the former first mate, Stern's blood freezing on the deck. "Set sail immediately."

Words and thought failed Marcellus, but somehow an objection tumbled up his throat. "But... the scientists..."

"Leave them." Lorelei ordered, her cruel blue eyes warning that there were many other officers who could be 'promoted'. Forgetting himself and bowing, Marcellus scrambled for the bridge as Jynx directed the crewmen to dispose of the body of their previous commanding officer.

Confident that the little people would rush to do her bidding, Lorelei turned and strolled across the deck. To say she was unmindful of the cold would be misleading – the savage frost, the burning emptiness of the white was welcome to her. The pain and numbness wrapped around her, the snow like an abusive lover. She raised her head and breathed in the scentless air.

The sensation passed when she opened her eyes and saw a shape in the air – the great wings of a flying bird. The Ice Queen's first thought was that there might have been some credence to the old legends of Articuno nesting in these islands after all, but as more shapes swooped in, she saw it was a flock of more mundane pokémon.

Flaying the snow, a large black Swellow with a silver sheen skidded onto the ship, festooned with ribbons, talismans and other trinkets. Not wasting a moment, the bird's rider leapt from his back and didn't miss a step as she bounced proudly. She was tall with a combination of antiquated snobbery and the sass of a femme fatale. Over her head was a flight cap with goggles, purple feathers streaking up from the inside. Wrapped around her tightly was a heavy coat of feathers that was nonetheless tossed in the wind.

"I take it you're Prima?" The newcomer shouted, as more flying pokémon landed on the deck behind her, some with cages dangling from their talons. The men were already wrapped in lots of tan-browns, keeping them sufficiently warm. Once their leader was within speaking distance – close in the storm – she took a wineskin from her side and poured out its contents in front of the Elite Fourth. The alcohol froze before it shattered on the steel deck. "I pour out an offering to you."

Finishing the strange ritual, the woman tossed away the skin and extended an arm for a handshake.

Lorelei looked down disdainfully at the hand thrust towards her. The flyers were dressed in the colours of Viridian, and there had been no hostile moves thus far, so the Ice Queen decided to wait and see why they were here.

"Prima, Lorelei, the Frozen Maiden, Crop-Killer, the Ice Queen – I acquire a lot of names." The Elite Fourth said, refusing to shake. This didn't bother the other woman, though. "Who are you?"

"Winona, Fortree City Gym-Leader – and that's it, for now." A smile was across her mouth. "But if all goes well, I've got a shot at Viridian's title."

_So this is the replacement Gym-Leader we were considering?_ "Did Ketchum send you?"

Winona shrugged her shoulders. "Thought you might need the back-up."

Scoffing, Lorelei crossed her arms over her chest. "What help could you possibly offer me?" She retorted, watching the men of the Viridian Airborne. The snow made it hard to see what they were doing, but they were busy unloading things.

Carrying that sort of easy joviality that grated the Ice Queen's nerves, the pilot laughed and gesticulated. "C'mon, a blizzard needs the wind as well as the ice. Besides," she added, a deranged turn in her eye as she pointed upwards. "We'll need the Sky God's patronage."

Lorelei couldn't resist lifting an eyebrow. "The Sky God?"

"Sure," Winona assured casually, turning around. Her followers carried a pile of volcanic stones forward, stacking them on top of each other. In a moment there was a black altar on the deck, a bruise on the pale ice-storm.

The sailors and their pokémon watched through portal holes with deep horror as the cages that had been flown in were wretched open. The Viridian Airborne, hard-faced, pulled out people and pokémon alike – half-naked and numb to even the cold in their terror. Dragging the struggling victims in line towards the dark stones, they began to set up the ceremony. Looking down from the bridge, Marcellus made the sign of the cross and turned away.

Seeing everything in order, Winona drew a coiled kris from her hip, relishing the blade's weight. Lorelei watched, disinterested. "You can't begin a voyage without sacrificing for success and safe passage." The flyer explained, approaching the first victim as he was spread over the rocks, crying.

Smiling still, she adjusted her goggles and raised her knife to begin her foul work.

-- --

Peeling a bandage off his arm, Gary saw that the flesh had healed underneath. Far too quick – even cuts this minor shouldn't disappear so fast. Frowning, he rolled down his sleeve and resumed march.

Failing to take in the light grass spreading to his left like a mattress or the stout foothills of the Fushia mountains to his right, Gary's thoughts hovered around the same topic. It had been humming in his skull ever since the Resistance had moved on from the Safari Zone; why was he still alive?

Nurse Joy – he wasn't sure which – had confirmed that there were at least seven different incurable poisons in his system that should have left him purple and bloated in thirty seconds. After the toxins had been flushed from his system, he had recovered in only a couple of hours. Slaying a mountain of ninjas in a fit of madness, impossible resilience to poison, and now super-human healing.

_I know I'm good,_ Gary reflected._ But I can't be _that _good_. The good nurse had called it a miracle from God, but Gary had various reasons to doubt that. The Pallet trainer couldn't shake the sense of something watching him, though – the explosion at Mt Moon, the fire of Celadon, he had overcome more overwhelming odds purely by chance than a man who didn't believe in destiny could feel comfortable with. There was too much circumstance, too much the context.

Flexing his fist, Gary's frown deepened. Things were building up to something. But what?

"You're way too serious for a man with a guardian angel." A voice burst into his introspection. Gary looked up and saw Tracey approach, Eevee in his arms. Brock was with him, carrying a proud gait to which he was entitled, having fought off a squad of ninjas all by himself.

"I don't need a guardian angel." Gary responded, but seeing his friends grimace he decided to change his tone. "With guns like these, angels need guarding from me, hey?" He added, flexing.

Tracey chuckled, and Eevee, seeing his master's mood lighten, leapt onto Gary's shoulder. "We've been followed for sometime." He said with humorous inflection, looking over at the rocky Fuschia hills, poked with countless hiding holes. Being an experienced Watcher, he was one of the first to notice.

Gary looked up, letting his eyes follow the curve of the Fuchsia Mountains, which stabbed at the sky cruelly. Somewhere in those unforgiving crags and cutting rocks was the secret city of the Fuchsia clan. As a child Gary had conquered the climb and found the hidden streets for his Soul Badge. It somehow seemed more intimidating now.

"Well, those ninjas better not try anything." Brock said, as though scolding their invisible observers. "Not with the expert ninja-slaying team, Brock and Gary around!" Gary raised an eyebrow – apparently Brock's joy at being alive overrode their previous grudge. But on reflection, Melissa was probably forgotten – he seemed to do that so easily with women.

Smirking, Tracey shook his head. "They won't attack – their Gym Leader is dead. They'll take some time to regroup."

Gary looked forward. "I'd prefer that, hey." He said, desiring not to perform any more 'miracles' for a little while. Eevee nodded decisively at this, scolding his master for getting into life-or-death struggles without including him.

Brock slapped the other tall man's back and hugged him manfully, further surprising Oak with his capacity to forgive and forget spontaneously. "Well, that won't be a problem. Just over the way is the Old Bike Bridge, and from there we're home free."

"Home free?" Gary began to ask, but the olive-skinned man's eyes were held by a small group of Resistance Soldiers marching nearby. All women, of course. A couple wore Celadon green cloaks, lending them a sort of elfin charm, while the rest were hooked all over with ammunition in a 'G.I. Jane' fashion. Brock's overactive hormones were drowning out conversation.

"Hang on a sec." Brock excused himself, going up to the ladies to pour out his ninja-slaying exploits, no doubt to be beaten in return, leaving Eevee, Gary and Tracey to themselves.

His brown hair bobbing, Gary looked to his artistic friend. "So, home free?"

"We're getting a ride to Cinnabar Island." He explained. "From Team Rocket, of course."

Eevee and Gary exchanged a look. "Eeee?" the dog asked apprehensively, his snout curling.

Before Tracey could look to Gary for a translation, a familiar roar covered the columns of the Resistance.

"Brock!" Lance shouted, standing on top of a rise, distinct as all his subordinates gave him a wide birth. "Get your arse over here!"

The Old Pewter Gym Leader sheepishly excused himself from his inept flirting, to which the women responded with blasé stares. Interested, Tracey, Gary and Eevee agreed in wordless accord to follow.

Jogging past the rank and file, they rose over the hill, seeing the sea poured out in front of them. On the right was the bridge stump that had once been the massive Bike Bridge, which had in their youth streaked out across the heads and eventually lead up to where Celadon once stood. The arriving Rangers came up and caught sight of this symbol of youth-oriented society, defaced and ruined, and collectively felt loss-pangs.

Ignoring the relic, Gary and his companions followed Brock down towards the shore line. The beaches were bordered with high banks and cliffs that provided a high view of the sand and sea. An off-shore breeze caused the short-sleeved Gary a sudden shiver.

Lance had moved ahead and joined Sabrina atop these cliffs, his cape swept up in the high wind. Keeping their longer hair from their eyes, Tracey and Gary ran to catch up with Brock.

Turning to see the others arrive, Lance shot Stone-Baron a furious glare, sweeping his hands over the empty ocean. "Where are they, Crumble-Heart?" He raged. "The arrangement was that they would be waiting for us!"

Brock was momentarily at a loss, and then looked left at a large, tree-laden hill blocking the view of the water from that direction. With a shrug, he pointed south. "Maybe they're in a cove that way?"

Sabrina seemed to accept this as reasonable – after all, Team Rocket would want to remain out of sight in case the League decided to stumble upon them. The three officers launched into an argument about who should go investigate, while Tracey attempted to play mediator for his superiors.

Smiling at Resistance Command's bickering, Gary rolled his head back, causing Eevee to shift. The sky was fairly cloudless today, and up high he saw a flock of pokemon circling lazily. Squinting a bit, he recognised them as dark Staraptors. That was odd – Staraptors didn't normally live this far south. In fact this was way too far south; and they usually didn't congregate in flocks, either...

All at once the bird pokemon broke their formation and flew south. Keeping a perplexed stare on the retreating birds for a moment, Gary laughed through his nose and forgot the matter. The 'discussion' seemed to have reached a conclusion, anyway.

"Let's just send a few Rangers up, okay?" Brock reasoned, to which Lance acquiesced.

"Fine." He said, and a sidelong look informed him that Sabrina was fine with it as well. "Go round some up. And try not to flirt with them while you're at it."

Brock blushed and rubbed his spiky hair. "How about I just send the guys and-"

His idiotic comment died as they heard a soft _thwom_ in the distance and a piercing whistle filled the ears of all present. They exchanged confused looks, even Sabrina, and looked around for the source as the volume increase. Then Gary recognised it.

"Take cover!" He shouted, Eevee leaping from his shoulder and the two of them sprinting for the nearest rock.

The whistle's pitch dropped and there was a great explosion, sending Resistance members flying in red chunks. Everyone scrambled. There were more distant booms and shells whistled in from over the hill. Fountains of dirt spouted along the landside, throwing the Resistance columns into disorder.

"Eeee!" Eevee cried as a shell landed too close and sent the small dog flying. Gary snatched him from the air and threw himself to the ground. A quick check and the trainer saw that the pokémon had luckily only taken a few scratches. Gary narrowed his eyes. Too lucky.

"What is this?" He shouted, as artillery hailed down heavily over the hills. All was noise and screaming, like a gale. "Is this the Fuschia Gym?" Even as the words barrelled out, he knew it wasn't – ninjas wouldn't use such overt weapons.

A certain pitch squealed in his ear, and the Pallet native made to jump but was suddenly blocked by a wall of white. It was Sabrina teleporting in, and spreading a broad purple field as she did so. The shell that fell from above shattered on the Reflect field with such force that it actually shook and Sabrina's knees buckled.

Gary caught her, but she wasted no time with thanks and pointed to the sea. "Look there!"

Sliding along the sea like the head of a guillotine falling in freezing time upon the condemned's neck was a long steel battleship. Thundering across its flank were the ship's cannons, heaping explosives onto its foes. Ducking back behind a rock with his pokémon and psychic, escaping the flight of shrapnel, Gary cursed. A _battleship_ – where did the Ash get a _battleship_?

"The SS Anne - this is problematic." Sabrina commented, her psychically aimed voice audible over the din. Removing herself from Gary's hands, she stood boldly upright. Sharp debris bounced off a sudden purple glow, revealing an invisible shield around her. "We had counted on the League flagship being with the Vermillion refugees."

Oak and Eevee were about to express their irritation at having to fight a warship when they were interrupted by a sharp caw. A Staraptor's call. A shadow passed over head.

Air-borne pokémon were emerging from over the hill, darkening the sky in their number. Most carried wild-looking riders, feathery war decorations raging in the wind. Boldly diving sharply, the Viridian Airborne Division strafed the Resistance with bullets, spears and rocks – whatever weapons they had available.

"Heads up!" Gary heard Tracey call, revealing Sketchit to be close by. The pudgy Watcher raised his carbine and fired into the thick squadrons. Blood and feathers flew as he tagged a Pidgeotto.

Gary had a pokéball out. "Scizor!" The steel bug emerged from the red glow charging. Bullets and stones bounced harmlessly from its metal chitan, and in retaliation the bio-machine launched itself into the sky. A Staravia lost her rider to the bug, which carried the struggling man along in its claw.

Still gliding in the air, Scizor drove its captive into a large Pelipper who carried his master in his large beak. Using its weight to plummet all three into the earth, Scizor closed its claw and felt nothing as bones bent.

Gary and Eevee weren't lazy, firing into the air wing with AK-47 rounds and shadow balls. There was more death and blood in the storm of violence. Sabrina effortlessly protected them from return fire, but a cannon-blast from the SS Anne threw dirt into their eyes.

Clearing their vision, they saw a Staraptor swooping in to strike them with his wing, which sparked with cutting energy. Gary had his gun up, but a beam of bright energy soared over their heads and blew the bird from the sky in an extravagant explosion.

Sprinting up to share their cover was Lance, his towering Dragonite following with smoking rising from his nostrils.

"We need to pull back out of range!" He growled, running a stressed had through his spiky black hair. "Deal with the birds then the cannons."

Sabrina's sharp eyes pierced the Dragon Master. "But they may create a beachhead."

"Better than being shot to pieces." Lance spat through a sneer. Laughter rained on them from above, and the five looked up.

Darting artfully through the crowded air was a Swellow, much larger than they normally came and with a silver spray as light struck in a certain way. The dark bird had seated on his back a woman in old fashioned flight gear, whose mad laughter was as thick as the bullets and feathers. She clung to no reigns, pouring out wine from one hand and dropping grenades with the other.

Lance recognised her, and his face sealed up into a grim look. "Great." He said aloud. "New plan, kill them all."

Gary stared at Legend-Stalker. "What? Who's she?"

Standing up and swinging onto Dragonite's back, Lance gave away nothing. "A relic from the Old World I should have cleaned up a while ago."

Leaving no room for an answer, the old League Champion kicked at Dragonite's scaly flanks, and the pokémon flapped his powerful wings, taking off in a high wind. Gary, Eevee and Sabrina stared after their leader as he bashed through the League airman with force of a fighter jet.

Seeing a yellow streak slice through her new Viridian air force caused Winona to look back over her shoulder. The comet hurdled straight towards her, picking her out among the crowd. Smiling as the dragon closed in on her, Swellow twisted easily out of the way at the last moment, letting the monster pass on by.

"If it isn't the Oppressor!" She announced with cheer. "Dragon Master, Fury, Legend-Stalker, Crest-Holder!" Winona stuck out her tongue. "I'll pour out your blood as a libation to the Sky-God!"

Roaring as he pulled Dragonite around, Lance had his pokémon accumulate a furious energy at his mouth and fire a hyper-beam. Again Swellow deftly avoided the attack, letting the League pilots behind them take the explosion.

"Damned heathen!" Lance fired, lifting his Steyr AUG to prepare for the inevitable dog fight.

The insult rolled right off Winona, who pulled her flight goggles over her eyes. "I think I'll earn my first epithet today." She declared, tossing away her wine skin and unhooking a grenade launcher from her saddle. "'Dragon-Slayer'! Do you like it?"

-- --

Satisfied that the new Viridian Gym-Leader was doing her job, the Ice-Queen returned the binoculars to Captain Marcellus. The recently promoted officer had stripped off the thick thermal gear since sailing into warmer climates, and had revealed himself to be surprisingly soft-looking for a sailor. His round cheeks anchored wandering brown hair, giving his head impression of a radish.

Taking the binoculars, he tried not to shiver. The Elite Fourth seemed to have carried Sea-Foam's icy weather with her, humming with a freezing sensation.

"I see that this Winona can at least follow basic instructions." Lorelei commented to herself, completely indifferent to Marcellus' thoughts. She was not pleased with having to work with someone as obviously crazy as the Fortree native – Blaine and Janine had been much more reliable.

Extending a long arm, Lorelei issued her orders to the man next to her. "Focus the main cannons towards the beach and then push them forward – I wish to drive them back so we can land some troops on the shore."

Nodding and blurting a weak "Yes Ma'am", Marcellus turned to look to his Octillery. The large red octopus used its many arms to operate an entire cannon itself. He shouted out the orders so that word would reach all the guns.

Turning back, he saw his commander walking away. Unwisely, he opened his mouth.

"Where are you going, Ma'am?"

The glare that flicked over her shoulder was strong enough that Marcellus backed off a few steps. Surprisingly, the Frozen Maiden answered.

"I will direct the landing party and deal with any of the Rebel Super-Elites should they survive the bombardment." She explained before curtly resuming her course across the deck.

Letting out a sigh of relief, the new Captain looked back over at the Rebellion scattering in the wind and fire. He was happy to stay here, on the side of the ship, away from the smell of blood and burning on the deck. No amount of chemicals could seem to wash away the... ceremonies that the freaky bird lady had conducted.

How could the Viridian Airborne be party to it? Under Falkner, the Far-Leaper, they had been so disciplined, if arrogant and aloof. Did a Gym-Leader really have that much influence over their city?

Thinking about it, Marcellus sank a little. What was he doing? Was it right to follow orders in this situation? Shaking his head he looked up and redundantly order the men to keep firing.

-- --

Without much influence from the regular chain of command, the Resistance broke up into several groups. The first was the dead, piled up in limbs under the snow-storm of shelling and bombing. Others headed to the heavy cover of the ruined Bike Bridge, foolishly digging into an easy target for the monstrous SS Anne. Within the cracks of this concrete shell Snap was taking to pigeon-shooting, tallying what was owed him by Brock.

Tracey led a group as they back-tracked to the cover of the Fuchsia foothills to fight off the Viridian Airborne. They found the fighting fairer, though they lost some of their number to opportunistic ninjas. Those with flying pokémon summoned them and engaged the League in the air, breaking up the crushing air attack.

Braver Resistance fighters headed down to the beach, sliding down the steep cliffs. Sailing from the SS Anne was an amphibious invasion, sailors and League trainers mounted on their swimming pokémon. The Resistance fired relentlessly, hoping to keep their foes out at sea.

Gary found himself here in the sand, with Eevee and Brock. Stone-Baron had his pokémon toil without rest wrenching great boulders from the cliffs and tossing them across the beach as cover for the Resistance. This proved invaluable, as the SS Anne was focused on keeping men off the sand, presumably protecting the League advance. Oak helped himself to a great rock as he sunk a breast-stroking Quagsire.

Galloping up and down the coast in joy, Eevee emptied shadow balls and hyper beams from his mouth with abandon. He blew impressive holes in the advancing landing party, and was fearless of return fire. Spouts of water from the advancing pokémon struck the sand around him, but the dog was too quick for them. Gary glanced over worriedly, not having realised how much energy the little guy had needed to burn off.

Looking the other way, Oak saw Brock run from rock to rock with his head down, coming to a stop by Gary's side.

"Lorelei's out there." He said, pointing. Gary squinted at a small figure out past the advancing sea invasion. The blob was floating still on what could have been a Lapras, directing the attack safely out of range. Brock could identify a beautiful woman from miles off, so Oak decided to take his word for it.

"What's she doing off the ship?" Gary asked the wind. Brock answered.

"Maybe she's getting frustrated." Brock moved his finger to indicate the SS Anne. There was a prick of purple light floating around its hull. "Besides, it doesn't look too safe back there right now."

-- --

Used to being largely untouchable when out at sea bombarding shorelines, the crew of the SS Anne was caught doubly off guard when a woman in black with strange hair _appeared_ mid air over their flank and started crushing cannons with the power of her _mind_. Steel cried, men were tossed, and if they didn't keep up the barrage, Lorelei would murder the lot of them.

"You guys!" Marcellus screamed, pointing to some seamen unsure as to whether to stay at their posts. "Keep firing!" Turning his attention at the rest of his men, who were shooting and throwing whatever they had at Sabrina. There was no effect – she had a purple sphere of defence.

"Keep it up!" The 'Captain' urged, but it was impossible. The volley died, and the psychic dropped her shield and outstretched her hands. Clenching them tightly, the ship's hull shook, metal squealing.

_She's tearing out the sides of the ship!_ Marcellus realised. "Fire! Fire! Stop her!" Kicking desperate at his Octillery, the desperate Captain forced his pokémon to abandon its cannon and spew a column of water at the attacker. Back on the defensive, Sabrina abandoned her attack and spread her field.

As the he watched the water fold around the impenetrable barrier, Marcellus was struck with sudden inspiration.

"She can't attack if we pin her!" He cried aloud, before turning to his men. "Get back in there!"

Swiftly organising the men and pokémon at his disposal to cover each other reload time, the Captain threw together a makeshift arrangement that constantly blanketed the psychic with small arms fire. It couldn't win the fight, but it kept the boat from sinking and hopefully would hold out until the Elite Fourth arrived.

On Sabrina's face was an expression of minor exasperation, to which Marcellus presented one of stubborn determination. There had to be a way out of this – there _had_ to.

-

-

Continued in part 2


	18. Blizzard 2

**Disclaimer**: Perhaps you have devised this already, but I don't own Pokémon – Nintendo does. I am merely a hopeless, impoverished fan, spending his time writing pointless tales.

-

**Grasping the Moon**

Chapter 18 – Blizzard 

Part 2

The strange lightening of incoming artillery proved useful for the flyers across the cratered field, allowing greater ease of movement. For the Resistance flyers dog-fighting the Viridian Airborne, this meant that the unsearchable melee had turned into an insane windstorm of feathers and violence. The Resistance was outnumbered, but the Viridian Aces were having a hard time splitting their forces between attacking so many different Resistance hold-outs at once.

Even thought the battle covered all the skies from the coast to the mountains, there was one section of airspace that none dared enter – the twirling duel between their respective leaders, Winona of Hoenn and Lance the Dragon Master. The reason was not entirely one of honour – the collateral damage from these two had killed a good number of trainers.

"Stay still and die like you should have long ago!" Lance roared in anger, steering Dragonite by the horns. His Steyr AUG shouted out with him, and Dragonite pursued Winona's Swellow with a ribbon of black fire.

The Femme Fatale just laughed and pointed her grenade launcher over her shoulder and fired wildly. Fireworks were spread over the greying sky as Swellow whipped her skilfully around Lance's unrelenting attacks.

"You're a little late for that!" She mocked back at him as she reloaded, shouting over the wind. Lance ground his teeth and kicked at Dragonite's flanks, urging his mount faster.

"I killed your world and you should die with it!" He cried, trying to cut the heathen off and catch her unprotected. Her shiny Swellow was too quick, and coiled around Dragonite's thunderous hyper beam. In return, Winona pointed her launcher and fire, delighting in the jarring recoil.

Dragonite barrelled out of the way of the explosions, absorbing most of the damage and protecting his master. Fury merely snarled in frustration.

Winona smiled as Crest-Holder held tightly to her tail, refusing to be shaken no matter what aerodynamic tricks Swellow pulled. "You rant so much!" She shouted back. "My world's dead and now your world's dead, slain in a single stroke by the Champion." She tapped her lipstick thoughtfully. "Maybe there's a place for me in this new New World."

Lance's cry of indignation caused the pilot to laugh, and she fired more aimless explosives back at him. Furious, Crest-Holder charged right through, slipping sleekly just aside from every fireball. Slapping Dragonite's long scaly neck, they together put on speed, Lance's long cape billowing at length.

Despite her opponent's lack of conversation, Winona wanted to chat. "Back in my world, the hero slew the dragon. Funny how the opposite happened in the end." She smiled, but this time a little sadly. But she wiped the blues away and grinned for real. "You know, you're at least as bad as us..."

Her comments were cut short as Lance's Dragonite suddenly swerved in from the side, having flanked her while she rambled. Swellow reacted well, spinning and twisting, but it was too late, Dragonite was above them. His cape pulling at his throat, Lance stood up on his pokémon's back and brandished his dragon-headed halberd. Without hesitation, he dove off.

Free falling for a moment, he felt the wind whip past him, forceful yet insubstantial. Winona saw him plummet towards her and dropped her launcher, pulling her kris from it's sheathe. Lance's pole arm proved much longer, skewering the pilot's chest right through and into Swellow's back.

Squawking in pain, the silver-black bird collapsed from the air, falling long to the ground. There was a red sound like a bursting wineskin, and the ground was covered in something like wine. His fall cushioned by the two corpses, shock numbing the pain, Lance shot up and emptied a libation of bullets into the two of them disrespectfully.

A call went up among the Viridian Airborne Division. They saw their leader fall and no longer had any will to fight. Immediately they turned and fled across the sea, the exhausted Resistance troops letting them leave. Lance watched with small satisfaction before looking down at the anachronism he'd killed.

"Dragons protect what is precious." He explained to the dead, kneeling down to figure out how to remove his weapon from her body. Dragonite tenderly came to ground nearby watching curiously. "Even if everyone else thinks we're monsters." He raised his eyes and looked North West, to where he knew in his heart the Indigo Plateau was. "Even if heroes and champions come to slay us."

-- --

Seated on her Lapras, Lorelei looked up to the sky and witnessed the retreat of the Virdian Airborne. Adjusting her glasses impatiently, she turned her attention to suddenly ineffective SS Anne, and then to the increasingly unsuccessful landing attempt. Things were going very poorly.

From a mere survival point of view, now seemed a pertinent time to fall back, she surmised. However, total defeat here would ruin her reputation as an effective leader and spoil her chances at taking the seat of Champion. This battle had to be won.

Grimacing, she decided now was the time to advance personally. "Forward." She order her pokémon, who whined in recognition and headed for the beach. Between bold and beaten, she preferred the former.

-- --

"Hey, check it out! Clear skies!" Brock announced, raising a cheer from the men gathered at the beach. All the men save Gary.

Oak was peering out over the sea from behind cover, biting the inside of his lip.

"Lorelei's advancing." He said. How stupid could she be? Her troops are discouraged, Resistance reinforcements were en route, and the SS Anne may as well have been a cruise ship for all the good it was doing. But then again... Sabrina hadn't finished it off yet...

Standing up, Gary decided this was far too good a mistake for her to make. Whistling, he called out to Eevee. As the pokémon bounded through the sand, Brock looked over.

"What're you doing?" He inquired. Eevee arrived at Gary's feet, and the tall man bent down and felt through the dog's mane.

"You ever heard of a Macho-Brace?"

Brock rubbed his chin. "Yeah, the training tool that restrains a pokémon's power and makes it hard to move?"

Unhooking something, Gary stood up and showed a strange techno-necklace to Brock. "Well, this is much more macho than that." Looking down into the puppy eyes of Eevee, Gary said; "Sic 'em."

Smiling, Eevee's brows furrowed. His brown fur stood on end as the dog summoned up the vast reserves of power that had been kept from him for so long. As the energy coursed through his sinews, white flames burned over his body and the beach shuddered, sending many of the Resistance soldiers to the sand and rolling the huge boulders.

"Eeeeeee..." the pokémon intoned as his eyes glowed white. "Ee!"

The sand around Eevee exploded. Something cleft through the rock that was Gary's cover, and those left behind on the beach covered their eyes from debris. An unseeable thing had launched over the water at such speed that giant waves were thrown up like a tunnel.

Brock was slack-jawed as he watched Eevee plough through the landing party. Gary was smiling cockily – and well he should, as Brock had only ever seen one other pokémon move like that. Pikachu.

-- --

Checking the magazines in her pistols, Lorelei made the final preparations for her landing. Several of her troops were fleeing back towards the SS Anne, not realising that escape had been cut off. She shot them anyway, _encouraging_ the trainers under her command to keep pushing forward. She was going to win this.

A loud noise, stronger than that of artillery, erupted from the beach, and the Ice Queen looked up in time to see a brown blur lance over the water. It tore through her men at such speed that she couldn't react until it passed. Walls of water crashed over her, knocking the glasses from her nose.

Lapras mewed in fear, shaking beneath her, but Lorelei was too shocked to even slap sense back into her pokémon. Clothes soaked and purple hair painted flat over her face, she could only stare back after the bullet.

_What _was _that?_ She asked herself.

-- --

Sabrina saw through the crew's plan early, and quickly devised a counter. Drawing her purple field inward until it was tight around her body, she wound up backwards. The sailors and their pokémon were instantly heartened by her apparent withdrawal, renewing the strength of their fire.

The psychic soon disappointed them sorely by barrelling forward a cannon ball. She bowled over the firing line like a set of pins, striking with such force as to bend trench in the steel hull. Looking to bisect the deck, she pressed on, tearing the armour with ease.

Until she hit a wall. Bouncing off the invisible barrier rattled the psychic a little, but she recovered her wits and looked for an explanation. This particular area in the centre of the ship had a... different quality to it. Sabrina narrowed her eyes, floating above the ship – something evil had happened here.

Marcellus couldn't move one of his feet, but that was a small price compared to the crushed bodies of some of his men. Some of Octillery's red limbs were scattered in burning clumps – but those could grow back. The psychic had done a number on them... but from what he'd just seen, perhaps they could turn it around on her. She'd bounced off thin air, right where the Viridian Gym had made their sacrifices.

Dragging himself over the shredded steel, hope lit his eyes. Dark trumps Psychic! Of course! They have a weapon now – but how to use it against her?

That's when he heard an explosion and saw a flash of light from the beach. Surprised at the interruption, the recently promoted captain looked, hardly believing, as some sort of rocket parted the waters and headed straight for them. He couldn't quite make sense of something moving that quickly, like a rhyme-less dream. What was that thing?

Eevee pierced through the SS Anne like a shooting star through the night air. The steel ship fell apart in two equal halves, each unimaginably heavy piece slowly sinking into the deep. He had sliced through the fuel tanks, causing the mighty machine to explode in a dramatic fireball, raining orange light as far as the beach.

Choking with fear, the remains of Lorelei's hopeless landing party stared back at the burning carcass fall forgotten into the abyss. Their escape, their exit strategy was literally going down in flames. Exchanging terrified glances, they knew that they were doomed – forward to a waterlogged death from the Rebels or backward to frozen execution from Lorelei.

There was a surprising lack of cheer back on the shore as the Resistance soldiers forgot to take cover and stared blankly at the sinking ruin. That little brown dog had just cleaved a battleship – that innocent little pokémon. No one dared look, but each thought clung to Gary, who stood silent and soaked up the orange heat of the blast. How much power did this one man have?

Was it safe to have this monster around?

Out on the water, with a Lapras struck dumb with horror, Lorelei said nothing.

A twinkle of light from within the smoke, and a purple streak broke free. Smog clutching at her shield, Sabrina looked down at the destruction below her. He brow tightened. _Gary's Eevee did this,_ She observed. _How is it possible for a pokémon to be so strong?_

Little struggling specks spread out over the water around the wreckage, and the psychic recognised them as survivors who had thrown themselves overboard. She weighed for a minute between taking them prisoner and letting them drown before something appeared in front of her.

It was Eevee, landing on her force field and kicking himself off. The strength of his launch sent Sabrina flying. The dog streaked over the sea, throwing up water in a repeat display of his speed.

This time Lorelei recognised the pokémon coming straight for her, and elbowed Lapras beneath the antennae. "Ice Beam!" She ordered through clenched teeth.

Her icy mount opened his mouth and blew out a bolt of freezing energy. He couldn't see the enemy to strike, but aimed at the head of the water trench. The beam struck, creating a small iceberg that apparently ended Eevee's advance.

But the target had dodged, appearing in the air above the Ice Queen's shoulder. In an instant she turned and fired her pistol, but the dog was gone again, appearing behind her. This time he was charging a huge white ball that Lorelei and Lapras immediately recognised as a hyper beam.

"The left!" They simultaneously attacked, but Eevee dodged too quickly.

The Frozen Maiden and her arctic ocean-steed futilely fired in all directions, the small dog vanishing before every hit. At every appearance he left a glowing orb hovering in the sky threateningly like a spotlight bordering an invisible jailhouse. Eevee blitzed around his prisoners at ungodly speed, kicking up a small gale centred on the trapped Elite Four Member.

Lorelei soon stopped bothering to shoot, watching with growing chill as the pokémon somehow managed to pick up speed from even this impossible pace – appearing at two or more places at once. Lapras was panicking, spraying ice wildly, but the Elite Fourth's eyes were on the cage of burning spheres that the dog had erected over them.

She was certain this was a scare tactic – that there was only one hyper beam and the Eevee was moving so fast that there appeared to be many. If only she could discern from which direction it would come...

Suddenly the pokémon stopped, directly over the Ice Queen. She immediately lifted her pistols but hesitated when she saw that her cell remained upstanding.

"The walls -!" She began to cry, but Eevee beat her too it.

"EEE!" He barked with finality, nodding his head and bringing the huge payload of energy inward. A hundred hyper beams from every direction piled onto Lorelei with the force of a localised meteor strike.

Seeing their tyrannical commander disappear in a white explosion that sent tidal waves knocking many of their number into the water, the last of her landing party instantly dropped their weapons and surrendered.

The Resistance wasn't paying attention, though, watching with dread as Eevee was thrown into air by the power of his own attack. Brock stumbled backwards, but Gary stood proud, watching his leading pokémon at full power. Sabrina floated in a mental raft, disliking what she saw.

The dog stuck his nose tall, as though forcing himself further up. Soon he was so high in the sky that it looked as though he could touch the moon.

-- --

May disliked waiting. She preferred to be doing something, even if it was training by herself. Looking up and down the long hall, she considered looking over the priceless busts of previous League Champions, but in the end decided against it. Cracking open the pokéball of her little pink Skitty, she played with the absent-minded little cat mindlessly.

Rolling the pokéball towards the cute little thing, May hummed at the tedium as Skitty butted it back with her snout. She looked instinctively at her wrist, but it was bare. Next time Team Rocket visited, she should look into getting a watch.

Space shifted behind her in a flash of white light, and she thought, _about time_!

"Well, what's the..." She begun, but stopped when she felt Will's gloved hand caress her shoulder. Turning, she looked into his face.

He was trying very hard to put on a greasy, perverted smile. The psychic reached out and took her chin.

"Hey, beautiful." He said, injecting way too much false charm in. May's eyes shortened – this wasn't like him at all. He was flirting far too hard, especially considering he hadn't been doing that much recently.

Looking directly into Argonaut's brown eyes, she saw something much more like anger than lust. But it wasn't towards her – it was like Will was punishing someone. He wasn't even trying to influence May mentally. Something was definitely up.

"What's wrong?" She asked directly, ignoring the hand on her beautiful body and maintaining eye contact.

Will broke away and hid his face. "Nothing! There's nothing wrong."

A moment passed and there was no question something serious was happening in the geek's head. May considered pursuing the issue, but suddenly the psychic regained his composure. Thought-Poet turned back and wore a business face. This made May grimace – he never wore a business face.

Wiping his nose, Will toneless reported the recent events. "The SS Anne was hijacked by the Elite Fourth, which she sailed to intercept the Rebels. She was killed in action and the boat burned."

Sighing, May nodded, drawing her blissfully ignorant Skitty back into her ball. "Alright, let's go tell Ash."

Looking across the hall to the curling stone stairwell, she walked ahead, and Will walked to follow, strangely not teleporting as normal. They descended into the darkness, to the forge of strength.

-- --

It was always so hot down here, Misty complained internally. She looked around the grey stone dungeon, wondering how much cooler it might be over in the corner. She elected to stay by Ash's side, though; despite it meaning she could feel Bugsy's eyes firmly on her backside.

They stood around a barrier over a deep pit, the depths of which were so hot that the walls were burning yellow and red and the humans present could feel the heat a full mile above. Pikachu tread the line, risking falling right to hell if he fell on the wrong side, but that lightning rat never seemed to fear anything.

_Hard to believe that Charizard _likes_ to live down here..._ Misty mused, peering over the edge and fancying that she could see the huge wings of the fire dragon slide through the cauldron of flames. That pokémon had always been a glutton for violence though, eschewing normal society to train endlessly in the belly of the earth all day and night.

"Look at that!" Ash exclaimed, pointing as a team of League trainers pushed a huge Lunstone over the edge. They had tied large ropes around the heavy stone crescent, lowering it in by a system of pulleys and a lot of manpower. The ropes would burn when it closed on Charizard's inner sanctum, but this way the unearthly pokémon wouldn't be harmed before battling the fire dragon.

It was normal for powerful pokémon to be poured down the gullet of this dungeon to sharpen Charizard's already keen skills, but when Ash had heard word that some Kanto trainers had happened across a Lunatone, he had to personally observe the match. Lunatones were rare and frightfully strong.

"Did you know Lunstones originally come from outer space?" Ash babbled, adjusting his cap in excitement. Misty feigned interest, examining how her husband's under-lit face looked so sexy. "I wonder what they see from up there. Hey!"

He looked directly at Misty, snapping her back to attention. "Hm?"

"Did I ever tell you about the time we met a Lunatone in Hoenn?" Pikachu jumped and cried merrily, remembering the tale. Misty winced, watching the pokémon dance dangerously close to the edge. "There was this town, and everyone was acting weird, but it turned out they were being mind-controlled. A Lunatone had fallen from space, and was scared." Ash tapped the side of his head enthusiastically. "A whole town, enslaved by the moon."

"Yeah, the moon seems to have that effect on people." Misty muttered. Ash didn't catch it and turned back to watch the extraterrestrial pokémon descend slowly.

"Ash." A voice, hateful to Misty's ears, announced from behind. The Champion and his wife turned to see May and Will had come down the stairs. They both had bad expressions.

Recognising the type of conversation soon to follow, Ash turned to Misty nervously. "Hey, Mist, why don't you go, ah, take a tour of the dungeons with Bugsy?"

The Rebel in her twitched to hear the conversation, but in the end she obediently waited for Bugsy to take her side and walked off. As she left, she looked over her shoulder at the Great Kanto Trainer. He was waiting for her to go.

Struck by the sudden desire to know her husband in his entirety, she made a snap decision. As soon as she turned a corner, she grabbed Bugsy and flattened him against the wall. Before the insect could whinge, she stuck a finger over his mouth and shushed him. She knew he was silenced as much by creepy enjoyment of her fingers on his face as her order, but she put that aside to turn and peek back around at Ash's meeting with May and Will.

"So?"

"The Elite Fourth is dead." Will stated. The Champion nodded without surprise. "Winona was also killed."

Ash snorted. "Good." He said, surprising all watching, who were used to him finding a person's death deplorable. "That psycho deserved it more than anyone."

From her eavesdropping position, Misty was stunned to see Ash so pleased with someone's demise. She was more off put, however, but the fact that he was so in control of the conversation. Wasn't Lorelei the evil one? Why was he giving the orders? A bad feeling coiled around her heart.

Clearing her throat, May moved on. "We lost the SS Anne as well."

Eyes flicking, Ash looked concerned. There was fearful concern in his voice as he asked. "The crew?"

"Koga reports most dead, though some were captured." Will answered, looking out of the conversation. "The boat was sunk, so we don't need to fear the Rebellion using it on us."

Still grieving over the dead, Ash turned his eyes to the roof. Sucking in his breathe, he held it for a moment, before he blew out the contents of his lungs, along with it his sadness and guilt. "At least Lorelei got her punishment."

This was news to May. "You intended her to be killed by Gary Oak?" Hearing that crow use that name made Misty flinch.

Ash nodded bashfully. "This has been in the works for a while." He admitted. "Falkner warned me about a female traitor – obviously he meant Lorelei."

Will and May exchanged a look, and Misty saw them. They knew. They knew she was up to no good. The darkness around her heart strangled. _This is very bad!_

And even more concerning was what Ash was saying. He had planned this. He knew what he was doing. All this waring and politics – he was engineering it. Ash, her Ash, was the one burning Kanto to the ground. He wasn't a puppet, he wasn't being used – he was the Emperor of Darkness.

For the first time, Misty saw Ash as someone other than her husband. Her heart banged. He transformed before her eyes – no more was he grins and pretty eyes and muscled arms. He was capes and swords and violent fists. The League Champion, King of Battle.

She gasped, alerting all to her presence. Will and May were immediately suspicious, but Ash was plain horrified. Bugsy was sweating death at the thought of being found out, but Misty drew attention by fleeing immediately. She sprinted up the stairs, leaving May, Pikachu and Will wondering if they should chase, but Ash and Bugsy were already after her.

Misty ran to her quarters blind, and for some reason there she wasn't crying. There was a blizzard in her mind, tumultuous but chilling, freezing the tears in their glands.

-- --

It was only when the seas were clear that Team Rocket appeared. Their fleet of submarines, all built in the image of Magikarp, surfaced in unison, looking like a school of freakishly large pokémon. They had been aware of the SS Anne's approach and had hidden themselves beneath the waves until the fighting died down. Despite their unreliable service, the fighters of the Resistance were happy to see their passage out off this damned shore emerge.

The very moment Jesse, James and Persian set foot on sand, Brock was on top of them, yelling and demanding a discount. He had only moments early dumped a stack of money in the hands of an impatient Snap, and had no desire to part with much more of it. Brock also brought up the space necessary to transport the wounded.

Gary, Tracey and the aforementioned sniper hung around watching the heated negotiations. For them, the storm had passed, but behind them the Nurse Joys were frantically trying to organise the treatment of the dozens of fresh amputees, throwing up a gale of emergency surgeries and howling men like winds.

"You're popular at the moment." Snap sarcastically mentioned to Gary, cigarette bobbing from his lips. After Eevee's display earlier, the rest of the Resistance had developed a fear of Oak, especially witnessing him remove similar restraining devices from all his pokemon.

The Pallet trainer observed their trepidation and took it as reverence. _That's right, keep your distance, _he internally ordered them, smiling arrogantly. _I am different from you – I am better than you_.

Coiled around his shoes in the sand, Eevee yawned – not from exhaustion but boredom. For his part, Gary was anxious.

"When are we leaving?" He asked, knowing that Cinnibar was where he'd see Misty again. Tracey shrugged.

"When Brock's done here, I guess." The Watcher answered, turning his eyes to the large man by the fleet. Even at his saying, Stone-Baron turned away from Team Rocket's representative trio, apparently concluding business.

At a distance Gary saw the Resistance Commander indicating for a bunch of Rangers to enter the subs. Nudging Eevee with a foot, Gary impatiently made for the ships, followed by Tracey and a lethargic Snap. Nearing the water, he looked at the Team Rocket cronies waiting for their arrival. They were common thugs, and it was clear on their faces that they only played cab driver over head-splitter because there was a lot of money in it for them.

He paused at the shoreline to ponder a way to set foot on the steel hull without walking shin-deep in the ocean and ruining his new pants. The sudden crush of sand drew his attention.

"Ah, Sir!" Tracey said, saluting as Lance approached, Sabrina hovering behind. The Team Rocket thugs snickered at the Dragon Master's cape and high manner, but when the ex-Champion glared, they averted their looks. Snap hung back disinterested as the others addressed the new arrivals.

Gary exchanged glances with Eevee and looked again to Lance. "You planning on riding with us, hey?" He asked, honestly surprised that Crest-Holder would voluntarily come within ten feet of him.

Lance snorted as though the thought was unbelievable. "Hardly. Sabrina and I shall be heading to Johto."

This was news to Oak. "Johto?"

"I have a clansman in Blackthorn City." Gary figured he meant Claire, another well-known dragon trainer. "She will be hosting considerable reinforcements from the West."

"Then why aren't we coming with you?" Asked Gary, trying to sketch the shape of their plan.

"People from Hoenn and the Orange Islands will be congregating at Cinnibar." Tracey explained, hoping he wasn't overstepping the mark by opening his mouth. "This way we can hit the Indigo Plateau from the North and South."

_A pincer movement then_, Gary noted, nodding his head. "Well, I can't say I'll miss you, hey? So get lost." After this warm farewell to the Resistance leader, he turned to Sabrina and nodded respectfully. The woman returned the gesture.

Scoffing at the upstart, Lance turned away, leaving him to release his Blastoise to ferry him to the ship. Parting from his subordinates, the Dragon Master paced for a short distance before noticing that the hovering lady wasn't by him.

Sabrina was watching Gary with a look of someone rolling a matter over in their mind. Lance didn't like it.

"What is it?" He demanded. Silent, she ignored his question and approached in the air.

Lance set his glare directly into the psychic's eyes. She met the look evenly. Lance assumed she already knew what he had planned, and that it was not what he had stated. She was a mind-reader, of course she knew. This meant her silence was both agreement and support.

"Forget him. Let's go." He said, letting her reach out and touch his shoulder, causing the pair to disappear in white light, never to be seen by the Resistance again.

-- --

She thought of barricading the door, but something told her that Ash wouldn't be doing anything so rash as break into his own bedroom. Settling for turning the lock, she sat on the bed, choking her shoulders and rocking. That's how one comforted a baby, right? She felt so naive, like a baby.

Misty looked at the bedding, the satin and lace and a thousand comfortable and expensive things. What was it worth, when there was poverty and slaughter just outside the window?

All at once, Misty screamed with hammer-force, uncaring that Bugsy was standing guard outside the door. It didn't work – reality was still pressuring her. She glanced at the door, where the bug collector was waiting. Why had Ash left him there? To imprison her here? Or perhaps keep an eye on her – assuming Ash really cared. No, not Ash - the Champion.

Falling back, Misty covered her throbbing eyes. "I sound just like Brock." She said without tone, throat scrapping after her shout. Overcome with the sudden rage again, she ground her face. "This is shock, that's why I'm not feeling anything."

She did feel, though – there were gallons of tear waiting behind her eyes, but they were somehow frozen. The small iceberg had descended down into her chest, pressing down on her lungs. Misty couldn't breathe. She was claustrophobic within her own skin.

"This is insane." She said to herself, feeling Drew's accusation of plagiarism hanging over her neck like a guillotine. That's when she heard movement outside, and the hushed exchanging of words. Rolling off the bed she crawled over to the door across the lush carpet.

Someone left, she could hear the footsteps, but someone remained, she could feel their presence. A long tense moment passed.

"Mist?" The call came, low and hesitant. No monster could talk in that tone. "I sent Bugsy and Pikachu away."

There was silence again, and Misty's ears suddenly became superhuman, discerning the smallest sound from his being. The shift of fabric, the soft breathe of a man scared of his vulnerability.

He was waiting for her to reply, but she had nothing to say. She couldn't speak. Rolling around, she leant against the door, staring emptily into their bedroom.

"Misty?" Ash repeated. Mute, Misty bumped her head against the door. She heard Ash sigh as he picked up her communication. His clothes shuffled and a heaviness pushed against the door as he sunk down and sat back to back with her. There didn't even feel like there were inches of wood between them.

"I know this looks bad, Misty." He said. "Wars and killing and everything – but when you do something really great, really good, you never quite know if you're doing the right thing."

There was no emotional resonance in his words – for a moment all Misty heard were meaningless sounds. Her tongue remained chained. Ash went on.

"I'm really sorry I hid everything from you." Misty's head lowered of its own accord. "That was really... patronising of me. Is patronising the right word?" Groaning, the League Champion moved, and Misty could somehow feel him curl up like a burned leaf. "I just didn't want you to feel like you did... back then."

The memory of the warm Sea of Blood was enough to melt Misty's iceberg and in an instant her yellow shirt was wet from crying. Of course Ash was trying to protect her – just like he was trying to protect his mum, Kanto, and whatever dream he had in his mind.

Weight shifted on her back. "It's going to be really great, just you see!" Her husband urged, his wife feeling his desperate need to pull the vision he saw and put it directly into her brain. "It's destiny."

Destiny – Ash was the one to teach her about destiny. She believed in fate because Ash said it was fate that they came together.

He went quiet again, probably because he could hear Misty sniff and sob so loudly. Taking in as much as he could bare, Ash suddenly made a noise – a hard, heavy noise that rocked the wooden barrier. He was tapping his wedding ring on the door.

"I would never have put this on my finger if I didn't love you completely and utterly." The Great Kanto Trainer said plainly, trying to reassure her. Misty was suddenly aware of the weight around her own finger. Feeling that she should probably raise it and tap back, the water trainer tried. But it was too heavy.

Time passed and Ash undid his lungs sadly, bumping his head against the door. He stood up.

"Come talk to me, please." He said, walking away.

Crying out what she could, Misty waited until she heard no more footsteps and then another full fifteen minutes on top of that. When she was sure no one was there, she scrambled for the lock and slammed open the door. She had to get out of here, she had to see Gary.

-

-

**Author's Notes:**

Winona – I introduced her to kill her. Gotta love it.

It is only now, in retrospect, that I realise there was a whole layer I could have put on the Janine-Gary fight – the Soul Badge! Gary winning back his soul by recognising his humanity or something. That's the problem with fanfics released a chapter at a time – unlike writing a novel or something, there's no way I can really go back and edit it now...

Can I just claim that I envisioned the technique of Lorelei's execution long before I saw Bleach?

Big things next chapter

Please Read and Review!

**Kishoto:** Thank you. 'Nuff said. (Let's pretend that was wittier than it was.)


	19. Ideology 1

**Disclaimer**: Perhaps you have devised this already, but I don't own Pokémon – Nintendo does. I am merely a hopeless, impoverished fan, spending his time writing pointless tales.

-

**Grasping the Moon**

Chapter 19 – Ideology

Part 1

The submarine trip was a trial. Tracey spent the whole time drawing whatever he saw out the porthole, and the Team Rocket crew peddling them to Cinnabar were as chatty as a confused Slowbro. Combine the lack of conversation with Snap drowning the small craft in cigarette smoke and one got a fairly lousy boat ride.

It was over eventually, though, and the vessel surfaced at last in the warmer climes of Cinnabar island. They speared through the water directly into the harbour, and as Gary scrambled out to get a lungs-worth of pure air, he was struck dumb by what he saw. As Eevee leapt out after him, he too scampered to a halt in amazement.

"Eeee..." the pokémon commented in awe.

Cinnabar Island was full of lights, burning at the approaching twilight. The island's famous volcano, once the seat of Blaine's gym, was now rigged with what looked like a geo-thermal plant. The shore was speared with ports and wharfs, piercing into rows of warehouses. It was strange to see a city sturdy and strong, rather than desolate and war-blasted – Gary hadn't seen a fully operational city since he had left Saffron.

"Ee! Ee!" Eevee called to Gary, scurrying over the red hull of the submarine. The dog drew his attention to a school of Magikarp leaping from the water around the Team Rocket craft. They thought the ship was a giant big brother.

Something struck at Gary's shoes. "Hey! Move it!" Snap growled, forcing the Pallet trainer up onto the ship. Snap and Tracey followed him up, taking in the sight of Cinnabar city as they were paddled towards the dock.

While they approached, Gary began to note how Cinnabar differed from Saffron. Saffron was a dark drudge of meaningless, repeated action, while Cinnabar was alive with activity. Men and pokémon toiled to move crates, load ships, and organise cargo with a mad energy. There was money to be made, and it was theirs for the taking. Every one of them wore a plain red 'R'.

"Gee," Sketchit noted. "There's a lot of pokémon around here..."

There was – more than they even saw in the Safari Zone. There was at least an equal number of pokémon on the docks to people – Venusaurs lifting heavy goods with their vine-appendages, Beedrills transporting stock to high shelves, Pidgies clogging the sky to deliver messages and light parcels. It was strangely disorienting.

Docking, Gary and Snap leapt right onto the wharf, while Tracey waited for the ship to be properly tied. The two soldiers found themselves bluntly ignored by the dockworkers, and discovered that they had nowhere to go.

"So I guess we wait for Brock, then?" Gary asked, looking back at the rest of the Magikarp fleet as they came ashore. Snap shrugged and took a cigarette from his box – the last one – and lit it in the tail-flame of a passing Charmander.

"Eeeevee."

"I guess we could..." Gary said to his canine friend, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Maybe they know what's going on?" Tracey suggested, stepping to the wharf. He indicated a pair in a hurry, rudely pushing through the crowd around the docks. They had a Raticate at their feet and a clipboard between them, emitting some sort of authority. Tracey had sharp eyes.

Gary immediately recognised the pair – it was Cassidy and... that other guy, two grunts who had followed him around for years as a kid trying to steal his pokémon. Shrinking back at the thought of their nuisance, he turned his eyes to the Team Rocket grunts who had peddled them here.

They were resting with their doubtless aching legs dangling over the water, pretending that their passengers didn't exist. No point looking to them for help. Sighing as he saw no other option but to turn to his old 'pals', the elite trainer pushed his hands to say 'let's go'.

Lazily coiling around the grunting wharf-men, the four of them aimed to intersect the spied Team Rocket trio. As they closed, they heard one of their targets, the blonde woman, complain over the bustle. She was very loud.

"I cannot _believe_ that we're late!" She growled, tossing her hair angrily. Tracey could see Raticate make sure to leave some distance so she wouldn't step on him in her rage.

The man, whose hair was parted and a shocking aqua, opened his mouth in response. "Could have been worse, Cassidy." He said, his scrapping voice so unusual that the Resistance troops jumped. "If they hadn't been delayed, we'd be _really_ late."

"Uh, excuse me!" Tracey said, trying to get their attention. Gary didn't bother asking for attention and put himself right in their path.

Her heels clacking to a halt, 'Cassidy' began to shout indignantly. "What are you-"

Her words fell to ashes as soon as she got a good look at Gary's face. Her partners peered out from behind her, curious as to what could have slammed shut Cassidy's rant. She immediately grabbed her partners and formed a huddle not too far away, whispering at easily overheard volume.

"Butch! Isn't that the twerp, whatshisname?" She asked. Butch and Raticate glanced over their shoulders and nodded simultaneously.

"Gary Oak? Definitely!" He responded, his grating timbre merging shock, fear and business opportunity. Gary puffed up at being held in fear by these old foes of his, while Tracey mused that the tight meeting made these Team Rocket members seem like black-clad versions of Jesse and James.

Cassidy continued to consult with her comrades. "What happened to his clothes?"

"Raaati_cate_!"

"Looks like he was dressed by a blind Delibird."

"That or Jesse and James."

While the three of them shared a chuckle, Gary shifted uncomfortably. "Hey, look, we're here with the Resistance. Where do you want us? The guys who gave us a lift weren't too accommodating."

Abandoning their cluster and appearing before their customers with impressive speed, the three of them rearranging their expressions professionally. Bending her face into a facade of generous hospitality, Cassidy clasped her hands. "The Resistance? Hell_ooo_, how are you?"

None of them could must up the strength to lie and say 'alright', so they remained silent. Cassidy didn't care in any case, and went on.

"If you could please assemble at Warehouse number 13, that would be most helpful." She indicated with her clipboard. "And, on your way, if you could inform your friends, that would be great."

Nodding, as he got the message, Gary turned to leave keen to abandon the trio that had dogged him every step of his journey, but he was interrupted by Butch's distinct voice.

"Oh, and one more thing, sir." He advised, raising a finger. "For the duration of your stay here on Cinnabar Island, you will need to let all your pokémon out of their pokéballs."

Suspicion flooded the Resistance elite's faces like a Gyrados hydro-pumped it on. Team Rocket had a reputation, after all, and they each had bad experiences with the criminals. Cassidy waved her hands as though to wash away their distrust.

"We assure you, they will be perfectly safe!" She said.

"Raaaati_cate!_" Raticate guaranteed, contorting one of his paws to make a thumbs up.

Tracey looked around, noting that no one, not even Butch and Cassidy, were wearing pokéball belts, lending credence to the criminals. Tossing glances at each other, Tracey and Gary reluctantly removed their own balls. As Tracey released Marill, Venonat and Scyther, his keen Watcher's eyes noted the Team Rocket trio were mentally recording his little ensemble, doubtless to type into some report somewhere. It made Sketchit shiver.

"No pokéballs, huh?" He automatically said, nerves pressing his vocal chords. "Strange rule..."

"Thank you for your compliance." Cassidy said in a voice so cute that Tracey could feel the knife in his back.

Oak emptied out his own small troop. The wood of the wharf creaked at the sudden weight, Gary's pokémon mostly being of a very large size and weight. Raticate was visibly intimidated, shuffling nervously backwards behind his partners. These pokémon had given the rat more than a regular dose of beatings in his life.

Gary's pokémon stretched and glanced around, surprised to be released all at once and assuming that the sudden reappearance of the Team Rocket trio was the start of a fight. Gary waved his forces back, causing them confusion as to why there was no battle, and Eevee leapt onto Arcanine's back. The larger dog looked calmly irritated, in the fashion of an older brother.

"Can we go now?" Snap growled, without pokémon of his own. His cigarette was burning down and he had no replacement ready.

"Yeah, alright." Gary replied, turning and leaving behind the forgotten Team Rocket agents. His pokémon followed in train, Eevee turned in his perch. The small pup, who forgave easily, joyfully squeaked his thanks to Cassidy, Butch and Raticate, which spurred Tracey to do likewise.

"Thanks Cassidy and..." He turned to... the man and realised he'd forgotten his name. "ah, Craig."

Veins immediately popped on Butch's forehead, but the Team Rocket member managed to keep his rage down. "Have a nice day!" He replied, some anger leaking through his grin.

As soon as Team Rocket thought they were out of earshot, the aqua-haired man exploded. "Seriously, is 'Butch' that hard a name to remember?"

-- --

On their way towards the Warehouse, the suddenly sizable party observed the population of Cinnabar hard at work. They stood out from the locals, as they all wore the Team Rocket insignia. It drew Gary's attention – did Team Rocket own the entire island, or just the docks?

Something else was niggling him – something about the way the pokémon and humans interacted. There was nothing particularly noteworthy about good teamwork, or even their total commitment to business. When it struck him, he had to say it aloud.

"None of these pokémon have masters..."

Startled, his pokémon with him looked around without jealousy while Tracey smiled.

"Yeah, I just noticed as well." He said. "It's actually kind of a nice way to live, don't you think?"

Gary's eyes were on a crate that a Croconaw and a Graveller were heaping in a stack with its ilk. It was labelled in white paint, reading 'COCAINE'. "Yeah, nice." He said emptily. When had Team Rocket been this idealistic?

They figured they had reached the right place when they saw people idling around without R's – some even had weapons slung, ranging from sticks to rifles. Inside was the considerable chatter of a large crowd of people, but as soon as Gary's company enter the dimly lit building, a hush fell over the crowd.

Gary and Tracey couldn't say that they were impressed. The 'reinforcements' from Hoenn and the Orange Islands, rather than disciplined troops, were a tragic mix of desperate out-of-luckers, bored thugs and adventurous youths. Their pokémon, swinging from every beam and box in the warehouse by Cinnabar law, were plainly inexperienced and barely in control. Tracey and Gary exchanged a grim look.

Eevee, unconscious of the quiet, instantly made friends with some small cute pokémon and began to play, Tracey's Marill and Venonat swiftly joining in, but the rest of the pokémon stuck with their masters, wary of the horde of amateurs. Snap took his rapidly shortening cigarette from his mouth.

"Looks like someone made a mess in here. Twenty thousand and I'll clean up this waste for you." He offered jeeringly, giving the newcomers the finger in his peripheral vision. Gary made a face and Tracey hesitantly came to their defence.

"So they're a bit green, but we need whoever we can get our hands on right now..." he said, but didn't really believe it himself.

Clusters from the Resistance proper were arriving in dribs and drabs, all of whom were equally appalled by the less war-hardened newbies. The Rangers and Resistance rank and file congregated near Gary, keeping well separate from the 'reinforcements'. Suspicious looks and dirty glares were launched into both lines like artillery from the SS Anne.

"Here we _aaaaare_!" A familiar sing-songed. Appearing at the wide doors was James, presenting the way forward as his partners and Brock came inside.

"Oi, James, where's da lights?"

"Hold on!" The effeminate man answered, fiddling with an industrial power switch that he'd eventually find wasn't working. Jesse took Brock's broad shoulders in hand and led him inside, Persian with her. Brock's pokémon followed save Onix, who elected to stay outside rather than crowd the warehouse.

"Come right in..." She began, only to be tackled by a sudden black blur.

"Hey!" Screamed a blonde-haired woman, Cassidy. "You did your part, this is our job!"

"Get off me!" Jesse snarled, kicking the other Team Rocket vixen. Cassidy let go and stumbled to her feet. Her partners, Raticate and... that guy (John? Jack?) came up her flanks.

"What are you doing here?" Butch accused James in his distinct voice.

James pointed challengingly back and answered furiously. "We're taking care of the customers, what are you doing, Frank?" He and Butch had no real problem with each other, but their female counterpart's passion was infectious. Persian and Raticate merely exchanged tired, sympathetic looks.

So tight with rage that she was shaking, Cassidy spat insults at Jesse without even hearing what she was saying. She _hated _that bitch so much. Ever since Team Rocket had moved its focus from stealing pokémon to the black market, Cassidy and Butch had consistently fallen away in importance. Their skills were better suited the old way, rather than to numbers and dealings. Now, with the tables turned, that fop James and that _insufferable_ Jesse had somehow pulled ahead.

On the red-head's part, that Cassidy was always stepping on Jesse's style, and now that Jesse was winning, _she _was jealous! _Feel the irony, dog!_ Jesse gloated internally while matching the blonde's volume decibel for decibel, blurting thoughtless insults back. If it was a catfight she wanted, it was a catfight she'd get!

Brock really didn't care about Team Rocket's infighting, so advanced to address the new recruits. He smiled and tried to be friendly.

"Hey, everyone. Who's in charge here?"

The recruits looked around in painfully dull fashion. Gary pinched his nose and shook his head. Finally someone eventually stepped forward.

"I'm the only Gym-Leader here," He said. "So I guess that's probably me."

Loose and lanky, the man stepping forward had drooping eyelids and a blue bandana through his blonde hair. His mullet, lethargic movements and casual clothes gave him the appearance of a surf-brained beach clinger. But there was something else about him – shadows rolled over him like swarms of critters, and he emitted the feel that there was something constantly hovering over his shoulder, a sick grin framing the mild smile on his face.

Brock's invisible eyes tightened as he shook the Gym-Leader's hand. "Have we met before?"

Laughing in a genuinely affecting fashion, the Gym-Leader shrugged. "Maybe, maybe. My name's Morty, the Ecruteak City Gym-Leader."

Snapping his fingers as he remembered some meeting in the distant past, Brock patted Morty on the shoulder. Gary glanced to Snap and Tracey, but neither of them seemed to realise who this was – Morty of the Burned Tower, the guardian of mystic treasures and forgotten prophecies.

While Morty got friendly with this Resistance battle group's command structure, Gary stroked his chin in thought. Arcanine pushed his warm nose on his leg, and Blastoise laid a meaty hand on his shoulder. Scizor had his mechanised eyes fixed on his master while Eevee had paused in play to look up. They obviously were thinking similar thoughts to the Ex-Champion concerning this Gym-Leader.

Morty should be at the Tower. He was known for the fact that he couldn't leave it, lest its magic hoard should be plundered. Something had drawn him out to the blood-gurgling civil wars of Kanto – something bigger than a mere political anarchy. Spurring these world-warpers to action generally took issues on an eternal scale.

"I have to confess," Gary said in a low voice, stepping out from Blastoise grip and approaching the new team member. "I am surprised that someone like you would come all the way out here. Got a taste for a fight, hey?"

It was obvious that Morty knew Gary's hidden question, but he deflected it casually. "Well," he responded. "I guess we all have our reasons for being here."

This was no answer at all, and Oak was about to push the interrogation when the bickering at the door was concluded with a sudden shriek, interrupting the conversation.

"_Fine!_" Jesse screamed, unconcerned with the stares she received. She flipped her streaking hair and waltzed arrogantly out, taking her team with her. "You can take care of this, but try not to screw up, okay? I'm not going to cover for you with the boss."

Cassidy hissed while James waved his fingers and winked at Brock, making the olive-skinned man shift uneasily. "Bye!"

As the white-clad Team Rocket members left, the ones in black spun and addressed the Resistance leaders.

"Well, we hope you enjoy your stay here on Cinnabar Island." Cassidy said, her expression suddenly pleasant again, save for the trail of spittle running down her chin.

"If you would just come this way, we can direct you to where you'll be staying." Butch went on, leading the way with his hand.

Sighing, Brock began to tackle the logistical nightmare of moving such a large body of men, leaving the Tracey, Snap and Gary to make their own way. Oak whistled to his pokémon, kicking Nidoking and Nidoqueen gently to stop them nuzzling and get them paying attention.

As he and about a hundred others pushed to leave through the wide doors, the Pallet Trainer mused over how his trip to the Indigo Plateau had taken such a wide detour.

-- --

"Hey, you can hold on a little lower if you like." Bugsy said, his voice carrying over the wind. Misty, whose hands were already at his hips, twisted her hair out of her eyes and removed her grip in disgust, choosing to risk falling rather than touching the dirty bug master.

Looking back over Ledian's red and black chitin, she watched the seas ripple past under them as they rocketed over. Deceiving Bugsy had been fairly easy – at first she had considered trying to seduce him, but that would have been too obvious. In the end it was better simply to order him to fly her to the Seafoam Islands, so that she could 'collect her thoughts' and maybe get some training in. _Besides, he's my underling,_ she affirmed to herself. _And as things are now, it wouldn't be surprising for me to do something unusual._

Bugsy inched back again, bring his back closer to Misty's body. There wasn't much room on Ledian's back, and the water master could only withdraw so far over the giant ladybeetle's shell. The sick freak was probably doing it on purpose.

"Comfy back there?" He asked with that permanently perverse inflection.

_Eeeew..._

Misty had been planning to wait a little longer to minimise the distance, but Bugsy's company was sufficiently repulsive that she decided to bail early. Taking a deep lung of air, she closed her eyes and readied herself.

Without a word, Misty pushed herself backwards off the large bug pokémon. Free-falling through the air, she opened her eyes to see Bugsy's horrified, androgynous face look down after her.

Twisting, she watched the floor of water fast approaching. Snipping a pokéball from her belt, Misty released her giant Gyrados above her. The water beast's greater bulk caused it to fall faster, endangering Misty of becoming the thin filling of a sandwich.

"Do it!" She cried.

Gyrados knew the plan, and stretched out, swallowing Misty up with his wide maw. The water snake crashed into the sea like an arrow, disappearing in its rich blue depths.

Circling above, mounted on Ledian's back, Bugsy stared at the concentric ripples that the escapees' dive had left. A long moment passed as he cast his head in all directions, spurring Ledian to use his superior vision to do likewise. They didn't surface. He licked his lips nervously.

"Oh hell..." the small man muttered, cold sweat on his brow.

-- --

Team Rocket had either erected several football stadiums worth of apartment blocks especially to house the visiting Resistance army. The rooms weren't comfy or spacious, even for Brock and the others, but it beat camping out in a warzone. Gary was growing curious about this city, and in lieu of Misty making an appearance he decided to go on an excursion with the others. He left his pokémon to explore as they pleased, though Eevee elected to stay with his master.

Walking through the streets, lined with stores and winking neon lights, it was apparent how much the Resistance stood out. There didn't seem to be anyone on the whole island besides the revolutionary force who wasn't wearing the Team Rocket sigils. That and the visiting troops were allowed to carry their weapons.

Gary looked down at the AK-47 and sword slapping at his sides. Team Rocket let an entire army inside their city, still armed and with pokémon at the ready? They either had no fear or no brains.

_I guess __it's pretty much the same thing,_ Gary thought to himself, smirking.

Tracey and Snap had peeled off to go shopping (Gary suspected Snap would returned with wheelbarrows full of cigarettes), but Gary decided to follow Brock. Stone-Baron was going to make some last minute negotiations over purchasing more guns, ammo and munitions with the 'Boss' himself.

Smiling, Gary reached up and scratched Eevee's chin. He'd always wondered who ran this show.

"You ever seen the Team Rocket Boss?" Gary asked Brock as Butch, Cassidy and Raticate led them up to an imposing tower at the roots of the volcano. It was of modern design, with walls of glass.

"A few times." Brock responded, giving up on flirting with Cassidy, as the woman bluntly ignored anything he said to her that wasn't business. He stared up at the building. "A-Class creepy."

The doors were guarded by centurions. Yes, centurions. Two tall men in gold armour and carrying pikes. Getting over his bemused shock, Oak was almost grateful to be finally asked to leave his weapons.

Brock laid his pistol on the table, where it was tagged and he was handed a ticket to trade in for its return. Crumble-Heart looked back to where Gary hadn't made any moves to unshoulder his rifle.

"Gary?" He asked, aware of the glares from the Hellenistic guards. Oak put on his best arrogant look (and he had a repertoire) and raised his hands challengingly. Grateful didn't mean subservient.

"Come and take them from me, hey?" He stated. Eevee bound off his shoulder in hopes for a fight.

The guards hesitated, glancing at each other. Obviously they had been briefed as to who this tall thin man was, and knew that they were no match for him. On the other hand, there was their job...

Grinning as the tension built, Gary watched as one of the guards edged forward uncertainly, but fell back suddenly. It was fun to have so much power.

At last, Cassidy snapped. "Oh, let him keep his toys." She ordered, pushing through the automatic door. "If he tries anything, we'll be on him in a blink."

Relieved, the centurions stepped aside to allow the others to enter. Gary smiled victoriously in their faces as he passed, and they kept their rage down in the interests of survival.

Weapons drawing fearful looks from the Team Rocket office workers who were bustling here and there on their daily routine, the small party walked over a cool marble floor towards the elevators rimmed in gold.

Brock, Gary and Eevee looked around, impressed. It was a nice place – art, statues and marble. The lobby was spacious, and the reception desk fancy. There were even nice little couches and a coffee shop, all of which they waltzed straight passed.

Their Team Rocket entourage had seen it all before and nonchalantly hit the button for the elevator. They waited silently for the lift, Eevee sniffing a nearby pot plant to see if it were real. People were still staring at Gary's armoury, and the Pallet trainer smirked at them. Some people actually shuffled back in fear. It was a good feeling.

A gentle _ding _announced the arrival of the elevator.

"Let's go." Butch said, letting the guests enter through the doors first. Crowding inside, some of the desk-dealers made to catch the ride, but Cassidy stopped them with an outstretched hand.

Holding the 'close' button until the offended faces vanished behind the duel steel doors, Cassidy wriggled her fingers at her partners. Butch drew a key from his pocket and placed it in her waiting hand. Spurning the buttons for levels, she inserted the key into a small hole and twisted.

Nothing happened, but this seemed to be normal, as she took the emergency phone off the hook and punched in a series of numbers in quick succession. Replacing the handset, the lift suddenly lurched and descended. Brock, Gary and Eevee exchanged looks over the degree of security.

_It's been a while since I've been in civilisation, _Gary noted to himself, waiting patiently as the elevator fell. _Good to see technology can still work_.

The elevator went down. And down. Down still. Several minutes went by before the Resistance representatives began to wonder precisely how deep underground they were going.

"Eeee..." Eevee squeaked, and Gary hummed in agreement. Raticate glanced back, but Butch and Cassidy simply stared at the doors.

The descent slowed smoothly, finally coming to a stop. The door rolled open, blinding the passengers with a sudden red light.

"What the-?" Brock cried, shielding his eyes. As their vision returned, they realised the light was lava. A wall of lava.

A moment later and they discovered that they hadn't been dropped directly into a lava stream, but that some sort of glass – apparently magic glass, the scientist in Gary figured – was holding the molten rock at bay. The entire floor was like an aquarium, arched with a full view of the volcano's innards. If they saw anything swimming in it, Brock would scream.

"Welcome to my underground lair." Butch deadpanned before leading the awestruck visitors down the hall.

They laced through several identical halls, though Gary, Brock and Eevee had they're eyes pinned firmly to the ceiling the whole time, ensnared by its red and black swirls. At one point Gary reached out to touch the glass, hoping to test its warmth.

"I wouldn't." Cassidy warned without looking back. "Assuming you like those fingers."

Passing only the occasional Team Rocket executive, the guides led Brock's team to an area where the lava bath was invisible, cut off by thick steel. It was instantly cooler, stepping onto this new floor. Eevee leapt from Gary's shoulder onto the ground, the sound of his claws clipping the steel tapping at everyone's ears. This new area was more like a traditional bunker, lit only by overhead bulbs.

A few twists and turns and they were at a door. This one also had centurion guards, save one was a Breloom, looking ridiculous with a gold breastplate moulded around its round fungus body. Their eyes immediately went to Gary's AK-47 and longsword, but Cassidy waved her hand.

"It's fine, it's fine." She said, but the guards were only half-convinced.

"Loom!" the big mushroom cried, stamping one clawed foot. For a second Gary and Eevee hoped that they might test the mettle of these bizarrely dressed guards, but a ball of fur at Cassidy's feet darted forward, approaching the Breloom.

The compartively tiny Raticate jumped and waved his hands. "Raaaaticate!" he reasoned. The centurions narrowed their eyes and weighed the argument.

"Fine." The human guard agreed. "But if something happens, it's on your heads."

The centurion turned and pressed a buzzer, informing the other side of company. A moment later and the steel bulkhead geared open with a hiss. Team Rocket led their charges inside, Gary smirking at the guards.

Inside was an office, once again a sudden change in environment. Rather than dull steel, the room was draped in well-lit warm colours, with comfortable chairs before a broad wooden table – the sort of thing Gary had come to expect of the wealthier parts of the world he'd visited. Beyond the desk and its plush seating was a fireplace, and standing over the flames was a dark man, presumably Team Rocket's infamous 'Boss'.

Cassidy, Butch and Raticate spread out to the sides of the room.

"Brock of Pewter City, Gary Oak and Eevee." Cassidy announced them, at which the Boss turned around.

He had a solid brow and no eyebrows, drawing focus into his cavernous eyes like mouths, waiting to swallow you whole. Black hair slicked back and a professional suit and turtleneck combination gave him an air of a man who dealt only in profit and loss, though his general demeanour suggested something openly vicious. Overall, there was something vampiric about him.

"Ah, welcome, please sit down." He said, mechanically rolling out his arm to indicate the chairs, in a voice that was low and breathy, like a midnight mist. "It is good to see you again, Stone Baron."

Brock forced a smile and took his seat, and as Gary came forward, the Boss moved to meet him, taking Oak's hand and shaking. He didn't seem to even notice the machine gun and longsword. "And Gary Oak, this is our first time meeting. Please call me Giovanni."

"Great." Gary responded, somewhat suspicious as his took back his hand. This man's grip was cold. He had known 'Giovanni' for all of five seconds and already he was detecting something odd about him. Something in the way he moved, or the unnerving way his eyes chipped... Brock was right – this was top-level disturbing. He might need to wash this hand.

As Gary sat down, still on edge, Eevee sprung up into his lap. Giovanni sat at his own place, spreading his hands in friendly fashion, though the backlighting from the fireplace framed him in a hellish aura. "I suspect you had some business to discuss?"

Clearing his throat, Brock leant forward to begin negotiations. "Ah, yes. It seems that munitions have run lower than we had planned on..."

So begun the typical back and forth of logistics and dollar signs, and it didn't matter how unnatural Team Rocket's Boss was, all the talk remained boring. Crumble-Heart was pushing hard for bulk discounts, probably because the money sent in from foreign governments was starting to dry up. Doubtless Snap had something to do with that. Sighing, Gary figured he could pitch in if needed – he didn't really need all those billions sitting around getting bigger.

Casting his eyes around, Oak saw Cassidy, Butch and Raticate at attention around the room. They remained in their places and silent, probably bored stiff but at least being paid for it. Eevee was mewing at the tedium, circling on Gary's lap for something resembling activity. For his part, Gary's mind started to wander – first to Ash atop the Indigo Plateau, waiting for their inevitable battle.

Gary smiled despite himself, drawing momentary glances from Brock and Giovanni, but they were tied up in their verbal joust. Ash, beautiful Ash – he was waiting for him up there. The thought was making him anxious – one of them would already be in the grave if he hadn't been caught up in this Resistance business. He chuckled to himself – and to think that now he was willing to help fund it.

Leaning back in the chair, his mind tumbled onto Misty, the one who snared him in the Resistance's net. So he liked her. So he wanted to see her again. It was nice to have out in the open, but he had to be realistic. Where could he go from here? Relationships were complicated – especially when there are wedding rings in the mix.

But that is too vexing for now, today he could just settle for the knowledge that she should be in Cinnibar island sooner rather than later. It will be good to see the curl of her orange hair, and the way she could smile violence or care, and how the sunlight would shave her thighs...

Time was eaten up in fantasy, and the next thing Gary knew Brock and Giovanni were standing up conclusively.

"I'm glad we've come to an arrangement we are both happy with." The Team Rocket Boss said, smirking in a fashion that was intended to be honest, but somehow ended up seeming like skin being dragged over teeth.

Brock gave a difficult laugh and rubbed the back of his head bashfully, having got the worse part of the deal. Gary grinned sadly – maybe he would be out of pocket after all.

Giovanni politely hustled the Resistance fighters out of his office now that business was completed. Gary could almost feel the way the Boss looked at them – figures in a great spreadsheet unrolling in his mind. Eevee gave a relieved woof and was first out the door, beating even Raticate.

The small rat's two partners exited wordlessly, slipping around Brock and Gary to lead them out. Giovanni shut the bulkhead behind them, and as they began the trek back, Gary glanced behind. The centurions had changed watch.

Facing Crumble-Heart, Gary asked what was on his mind. "Hey, when does Misty catch up with us?"

Brock wasn't listening, distracted by Cassidy's short skirt. "Hm?" The words eventually found their way into the rock trainer's brain for interpretation. "Oh, that." Scratching his jaw, Brock let his eyes drift back to the blonde's rear. "Well, frankly, I hope she gets here late and we leave her behind. She'd be safer on Cinnabar."

Logic was on Stone-Baron's side, Gary had to concede, but emotionally he didn't like it. He wanted to see her at least once more before his date with Ash.

The olive-skinned man's attention was now fully upon Cassidy's various 'virtues', leaving Gary without conversation. He tapped a weak tune on the pommel of his sword and let his eyes roll disinterestedly. To the left, down a hall, he something caught his eye.

He saw pink.

Freezing in place, Gary's heart thumped with uneasy fear. There was no trick in his eyes – something small, floating and _pink_ had shot around a steel corner. He licked his lips nervously and looked back to the others.

Brock's attentions otherwise occupied and the Team Rocket flunkies keeping their eyes firmly forward, only Eevee sensed his master's pause. The little dog looked back, his paw hovering uncertainly in the air, large eyes confused by the unease in Gary's face.

Breathing slow to calm his heart, Oak looked back down the hall and tried to think things through. Pink was just a colour. The flying thing could be one of a thousand pokémon. A rattle caught Gary's attention – his hand was gripping his sword and shaking.

Mount Moon, Celadon, and the ninjas – pink was too dangerous a colour. Brock, Butch and Cassidy were already far down the correct path.

_I have to go,_ He thought to himself, looking to his small companion. Eevee met his search for guidance, trotting up to his feet, silently affirming that the puppy would be with him wherever he went. _Since when have I resisted a challenge?_

Checking all directions for spying eyes, Gary raced after the creature, Eevee in his shadow.

A sudden sense of absence at his side, Brock looked up. Oak and Eevee were gone. Looking back, the Resistance Leaders saw an empty hall. His brow clenched, he turned fully.

"Gary?" He asked the metal walls.

-- --

Morty and Tracey socialised very easily. After bumping into each other in Cinnabar's endless bazaars, Sketchit leapt at the promise of better company than Snap. While the Ghost Master and the Watcher exchanged amusing stories, the sniper spent his time accumulating cheap cigarettes and shopping for exotic bullets.

Taking a break at a cafe, served by a dexterous team of Aipoms, the artist was sharing an old tale from the Orange Islands when Morty shot upright all of a sudden. This was very unlike the Gym-Leader, who was laidback to the point of slovenly. Tracey glanced to Snap, but the sniper sneered at the thought of caring.

"Are you alright?" Tracey asked hesitantly. Morty was looking toward the Volcano.

Rolling his jaw in thought, the Johto native answered. "_I _am..." Implying that someone else very much wasn't.

-- --

Gary thought a good deal of himself as a tracker, and arrogant though he was he could not claim credit for navigating so deep into the underground fortress. It was as though there was an unseen trail lingering in the air, leading him through the crooked halls. They were fished into increasingly disused paths – dirt, worn and dimly lit. Lights were frequently hanging broken from the roof, as though no one dared come this way to fix them.

"This is weird." Gary muttered to himself. "Creepy-weird"

Eevee was growing increasingly nervous, drawing closer to Gary's cuffs as they ran further into the fire-mountain.

The square corners flattened suddenly into a long corridor, at the end of which was a large blast door. Even approaching from a distance Gary could see that it would not yield easily. It was tall and obviously thick, scratched with thin warning paint. A number pad was by the barrier, faintly illuminated by a flickering under light.

Pressing against his master's leg, Eevee squeaked questioningly.

"Tsh, as if I'd know the code." Gary said, trying to quench his strange trepidation with bravado. "We'll just blast it down."

Unsure of the wisdom of all this, Eevee stepped out to gather power for a hyper-beam. He didn't have to time to begin before the code-box emitted a broken siren and the doors woke from their meditation and drowsily flexed open.

Human and pokémon exchanged a look as the steel teeth pulled apart, revealing a black cavern, the only light an high-tech green glow from the far end. Setting his teeth, Gary stepped in and approached the glow, hoping there was nothing on the ground to cause him to trip. After a moment, Eevee followed.

The walk was long, each step like a leap of faith. Gary closed on the glow, soon seeing that it was from within some sort of chamber. Grabbing the grip of his rifle, Gary pushed himself closer. Drawing near to the unearthly object, Gary craned his neck to peer inside.

_What is _that_?_ Gary's mind cried. Within the iron cacoon was a... creature, presumably a pokémon. It was tall – as tall as Gary, and though it was covered in some sort of space-armour, Oak could discern something of its shape. It had heavy, strong legs and thick tail, diminutive arms laden with heavy gauntlets. The skull was massive, with huge tubes running from a great helmet with all-seeing eye sockets.

The creature didn't react when Gary looked in, so he assumed that it was not aware. Peering closer, he got the impression of something feline about it. "I've never seen anything like this before..."

"Ee!" Eevee cried lowly, anxious to see too. The Pallet trainer lifted Eevee up in his hands, showing him the thing inside. Gary could feel his friend tense in his hands.

"Do you think we should bail or try and get it out of there, hey?" Gary asked, but the only answer he got was grossly powerful lights erupting to life. The sudden illumination revealed a cavernous white hall, berefit of features besides the creature's box. There was the clip of expensive shoes.

Spinning, Gary saw the entrance blocked by the dark visage of Giovanni himself, hands behind his back. The Team Rocket Boss had no expression as he opened his mouth.

"Things would have gone smoother had you not stumbled upon this place."

-

-

**Author's Notes:**

I'm breaking from tradition here, putting up a part of a chapter before the whole thing's done, but what was originally only eight lines in my notes suddenly exploded to six thousand words, and since there's a cute cliffhanger, I thought I'd put it up.

The 'big things' I promised will emerge later in the chapter.

Giovanni – you have to respect a guy who can wear an orange suit, but I decided on the trading cards clothing.

It think the writing this time, especially toward the start, was particularly uninspired. Sorry.

Please Read and Review!

**RedH****eadtheGirl:** Why, thank you.

**Atrioc:** Looking back, I believe your criticisms over Lorelei's actions are legitimate. At the time I was desperate to think of a reason why she would stay in the fight, realising that the suicide mission was out of character but left without options. If I could rewrite it, I would make it so that she did attempt to fall back, only to be caught by Eevee's awesome-ositude.

As for Pikachu – the rest of the chapter should hopefully sate your appetite.


	20. Ideology 2

**Disclaimer**: Do I really need a disclaimer? I mean, seriously, if you don't know that Nintendo owns Pokémon, then why are you reading this?

-

**Grasping the Moon**

Chapter 20 – Ideology

Part 2

Gary's hand tightened around his rifle as he stared at the distant Giovanni. If the Team Rocket Boss made any move for a weapon, Gary was going to blast him. A long tense moment passed before things went sharply off-plan for Gary.

Tossing himself forward like a spring, Giovanni leapt higher into the air than even Falkner could have hoped, covering the distance in a second. Gary fired wildly, but the flying man fell upon him roughly. Muscle memory kicking in, Oak sampled some martial art he'd pick up over time and tossed his opponent.

Free, Gary twisted upright and immediately opened fire, puncturing Giovanni with a barrage of heavy lead. Having his abdomen ripped apart apparently didn't bother the Rocket, who pushed to his feet to reengage Oak.

"What the-" Gary exclaimed, driving the butt of his rifle into the slickly dressed man's jaw. Eevee dove in and drove him to the ground, tearing into the Boss' flesh with his teeth. Gary drew his sword, only to watch as Giovanni calmly plucked the pokémon off and tossed the dog away.

"Definitely creepy..." Gary muttered, watching Giovanni again ascend to standing. A lot of meat had been ripped off him, exposing blood and stench – but even as the smell hit Gary, it seemed much worse than it should have, like the wounds were old. But weirder than that was the neutral face plastered onto the gangster's head – did he not feel pain?

Giovanni took a threatening step forward, when a haunting breeze drifted through the room. Indoors. Underground. How could there be a breeze?

The monster opposite Gary seemed to retain his intelligence and paused at the low wind and the frightful atmosphere it carried. Giovanni glanced around to determine the interruption's source, and when Gary shivered at a sudden chill, the Rocket, unaffected himself, observed silently.

Dark, light, dark - The lights overhead flickered. The mobster looked up, suggesting it hadn't been his doing. Gary was left to wonder, _What's going on_?

The lighting shorted again, and suddenly there was someone in front of Giovanni.

Morty lashed out with his fist, driving the zombie back. Bounding back, the magically-appearing Gym-Leader signalled with his other hand. Hovering from beneath the floor, the dark form of a Gengar formed from black mist, a hateful smile crooked across its nightmarish face.

"Shadow ball!" Morty cried, an uncommonly serious look on his face. Maliciously amused, Gengar reached out with his small hands and gathered horrific energies before him, launching a ball of hate at Giovanni. The Rocket Gangster took the shot in the chest, showering the white floor in ancient blood while tossed backward. There wasn't even a look of irritation on his face.

"What's going on here?" Someone cried, appearing at the door.

"Brock?" Gary responded, looking back to see the large man appear at the door. Without either pokémon or weapons, Pewter's old Gym-Leader wasn't going to be much use. Deciding to press the advantage with overkill, Gary turned to Eevee, who galloped up to his side. "Quick, annihilate him with a hyper beam!"

Acting fast, Eevee summoned up the energy from within himself and launched a room-shaking blast of white energy.

"What are you doing?!" Morty shouted, leaping aside while Gengar let the beam pass through his incorporeal body.

Giovanni watched the attack hurtle towards him impassively, not even making moves to defend himself. The hyper beam struck with steel-rending force, throwing up the metal floor like waves. The explosion rocked the entire underground base, dislodging panels from the roof. It seemed so conclusively a kill that Gary was immediately uncertain.

"Wow, uh, maybe you should restrain yourself next time?" Brock commented, taken aback. He was ignored while Gary watched the light die down, revealing the crater where Giovanni's remains should be disintegrated.

His doubts proved founded, as Giovanni lay as he had previously, unharmed and bordered with a powerful psychic field. Morty was stunned.

"_He's_ a psychic?" The night-stalker uttered. "That can't be right!"

"That's enough of this." A voice came from Giovanni's direction, though it wasn't his. This voice was collected but frustrated, laying out each word with the rationality of a precise thinker.

"Things are getting way too crowded in here." Gary grumbled, furrowing his brow in an attempt to work out the newcomer's true location. Morty wasn't so curious.

"Gengar, use Night Shade!"

Mysterious energies drifted off the black pokémon's body, but it never got the chance to destroy anything, as a sudden wave of psychic energy erupted from the steel chamber. The purple force knocked all present to the white tiles, and they gaped in awe as the metal pod was twisted apart like clay, the armoured form of the creature inside levitated forth, a harbinger of doom.

Brock was particularly fearful, crawling backwards and crying out.

"No way! No way!"

The steel-wrapped monster drifted forward, staring down at those before him. Giovanni forgotten, Gary turned to Eevee, but the dog was pressed forcefully to the floor by a bluish mental aura. The Pallet Trainer showed his teeth – the amount of mental strength required to pin Eevee must be gigantic.

"This has not unfolded as I would have liked." The voice came again, this time echoing directly into their minds. Brock seemed to recover some of his senses and blurted:

"Mewtwo! It's Mewtwo!"

Gary couldn't bring himself to turn back and ask who 'Mewtwo' was, his eyes nailed into the pokémon's three-fingered hand as it raised up threateningly.

"I cannot let word of this escape." Mewtwo said, gathering psychic force into a ball at his hand. Gary tried to dive to his feet, but he was held in another psychic field. The raw power of this 'Mewtwo' was inconceivable!

His eyes hidden behind opaque visors, Mewtwo flicked his fingers and discharged the psychic ball. The humans and pokémon strewn before him could barely cover their faces as attack burst into a wave of irresistible force. Purple energy washed over them and wiped them from the face of the planet.

Gary had no idea what to expect from death, but seeing pink was definitely a surprise. A moment later he realised that he was still alive. Lowering his fore-arm from in front of his face, he saw that he and his companions had been covered with a layer of pink light, apparently having shielded them from Mewtwo's attack.

And flying over their stretched out bodies was some sort of pokémon – small and pink, the small creature rolled and darted in the air with uncontained, childish energy, like a playing kitten. Staring, Gary recognised it immediately as the pokémon from Mount Moon that had carried a horde of Clefairies into the sky.

Shifting nearby, Morty looked pale, his drooping eyes wide as they could open.

"Mew..." he muttered under his breathe, recognising this pink pokémon.

_Mew?_ Gary thought, looking again at their saviour. This was a Mew? Weren't they supposedly extinct? Weren't they _legends_? Synapses fired in Gary's brain and his eyes narrowed. _Wait a minute... 'Mew', 'Mewtwo'..._

The two monstrous pokémon were staring in at each other silently, perhaps communicating in some way that the humans couldn't detect. Brock and Morty flinched when Mewtwo began to lift an armoured hand, but Mew reacted immediately, her eyes flaming. A blast of solid psychic energy struck Mewtwo with such force that those laying on the floor were hit with sudden winds.

Mewtwo wasn't budged an inch as the attack peeled the steel armour from his body, tossing it back to the ruined chamber, which in turn was ripped from the ground. The back wall was bent outward from the force of the Mew's mental might.

Analysing the monster that had attacked them, Gary could quickly detect the resemblance with Mew. They both had cat-like facial features, powerful legs and thick tails, but Mewtwo was larger, taller and much more man-like than the cute, tiny Mew. Was this the evolved form of Mew?

Morty apparently had some knowledge of mythological esoteric, but when Gary glanced to him it was clear he had no idea what was going on. The ghost hunter shook his head in wonder.

"What's going on?" He said. Gary had no answer, looking around at Brock, who was too scared to talk, then at Giovanni, but the gangster's shredded body lay dead on the ground.

Gary's attention returned to the figures before them as the towering Mewtwo turned his large, keen eyes to his visitors.

"I apologise for my rashness." The creature mentally projected, suggesting a long debate had just been concluded. "You should be grateful that you have so committed a guardian."

Blinking, Gary watched Mewtwo hover off the ground and drifted toward Giovanni's corpse. Mew was hurtling around the large room freely now, evidently from jubilation. Gary exchanged looks with Eevee.

"Guardian?"

"Yes." Mewtwo answer distractedly. The creature was staring down at the dead mobster. "She has been protecting you for some time."

Memories of the times that Gary had seen pink and been healed with strange speed spanned through his brain. He didn't want to be too trusting of something that had just tried to kill him, but information was simply too tempting. "Why?" He asked, sitting upright.

Looking up seriously from the body on the ground, Mewtwo watched the pink Mew spiral around in almost idiotic glee. "She is fickle and playful" was his only answer.

Gary looked to his companions. Gengar's huge grin was inverted – not even a being as other-worldly as it was aware of what was going on. Morty huddled closer, still very much on guard. Brock seemed to have located his lost voice.

"Mewtwo was created by Team Rocket." He explained in a hushed tone. Stone-Baron must have learnt this from one of his adventures with Ash in the distant past. "They genetically modified some DNA from a Mew."

"A Mew?" Morty whispered, looking up at the mythical pokémon scooting through the air. "But they were meant to have the DNA of every pokémon ever, how do you improve on that?"

A single psychic laugh from Mewtwo informed the Resistance leaders that the talking pokémon very much aware of their conversation. They watched as Mewtwo raised a lazy hand, lifting the gored body of Giovanni into the air. With his master a carcass, how would the creature react?

Purple energy shone over the criminal's body, reconnecting torn muscles, regenerating skin, and even re-knitting the suit over the flesh. They others watched morbidly, even Mew, who had paused to watch with feline curiosity.

"You will heal him?" Morty ventured, still scared and untrusting. For his part, Gary was starting to believe the sudden turn around in attitude was genuine, and was beginning to relax.

"Even I have not found a way to heal death." Mewtwo responded, setting the now repaired body of Giovanni on its feet. To the audience's surprised, the corpse adjusted his tie and walked forward with a smile, as though Brock and Gary were back in his office negotiating arms deals. Eevee squeaked in fright.

The dead body opened its mouth and said in Giovanni's voice: "But as you can see, that is not necessary."

Jaws falling, the humans stared with queasy terror as Mewtwo mentally pushed his puppet forward towards them. Gengar found it hilarious, chuckling with hideous glee. Gary shook his head. Now it was clear why Giovanni was so creepy – he lacked any essential humanity; he was simply a puppet trying to imitate humanity. _That is so messed up_.

"I don't get it!" Brock cried, desperately trying to reconcile his memories of Mewtwo with what he was seeing before him. "I thought you ran off some place to live in peace?"

"I did." Giovanni answered, standing over the Resistance leaders still on the ground. "And Team Rocket followed me. So I ran off again, and they followed, and so on for years." Mewtwo's intimidating form hovered up behind the body, his eyes glowing threateningly.

"Until I decided to turn it around on them." Mewtwo said with his psychic voice this time. "I killed my creator and now I run the operation. It's all very distastefully Nietzschean."

Looks dealt all round, the humans and pokémon didn't know what to make of this revelation. Brock was going nuts.

Smiling that undead smile, Giovanni extended a hand to help his customers up. "Perhaps we should discuss things outside."

-- --

Ash was worried about Misty. It was natural for her to want to get away and think about things, especially after having such big issues dropped on her, and he wanted to give her space, but he was her husband. It was his job to worry.

Pacing aimlessly through his palace, cape trailing, Ash was starting to get on Pikachu's nerves, as the pokémon had to follow at his heels. The rat cared for Misty too, but he was more rational about her absence. She was more than merely a tough girl – she was an elite class trainer, she could protect herself from Rebel attack or perverted bodyguards. And as for the real issue, Pikachu had every faith that she would return to her husband.

The Champion stopped suddenly, and Pikachu took the opportunity to clamber up his jeans up to his shoulder. They were outside Will's door, having come here purely by chance. No particular aim in mind, Ash knocked on the door, only to find the door float open at a single rap.

"Hey Will, I hope you don't mind..."

Inside, Will's room was more like a library than sleeping quarters, a maze of bookshelves. Packed in the corner was a bed and a computer – it probably didn't work given Kanto's current technological backwardness and the loss of power from Mount Moon and Vermillion. The room was dark, with only a desk lamp light and old monastic writing board. The Saffron Gym Leader was curled over one of Lt Surge's military journals, but he was staring into space.

"Pika pika..." Pikachu commented lowly.

Instantly more concerned about his friends than himself, Ash asked what was wrong. The nerd was shocked back to reality.

"Nothing." He said curtly. "I just learnt that there are some monsters to the south."

This was gibberish to the man and pokémon at the door, but the psychic didn't elaborate, shutting the journal.

"It's almost time, boss." He said, to which Ash's thoughts went from one personal matter to another. The Great Kanto Trainer's face darkened considerably and Pikachu remained respectfully quiet.

"Ah. We better get ready, then." Ash answered, waiting for Will to get up and join them before they headed to the main gate.

-- --

Giovanni – that is, Mewtwo by remote – lead them out from the base to an abandoned beach on the far side of the volcano. Apparently this was 'Giovanni's' private beach and was kept clear of civilians and even Rocket grunts. Mewtwo guided his puppet and led the Resistance leaders to this shore, where they took a relaxed stroll.

Mew was playing in the open air, coiling around rocks and skimming over the water, sometimes diving full in and erupting from the sea. She was heedless of possible discovery, enjoying herself with such abandon that is was strange to think that the existence of Mews had been regulated to fantasy. Her innocence was infectious though, helping the Resistance leaders to relax in the presence of Giovanni's corpse.

This didn't quite abate the knowledge that Mewtwo had tried to kill them not too long ago, nor the fact that they were speaking with a dead body. Lurking in the back of their mind was an awareness that if the horrifically powerful psychic pokémon wanted to finish them off, this secret cove was the place to do it.

"Doesn't he rot?" Morty asked, staring at Giovanni. He moved so perfectly in character, almost like a real person – to think Mewtwo had such a degree of control even from miles underground.

In a painfully life-like touch, the mobster dragged a finger over his upper lip as his head was turned to look at the ghost hunter. Manipulating the cadaver's vocal chords and lungs, Mewtwo caused the Team Rocket Boss to speak.

"I am able to halt the decaying process." He explained. "You would be surprised how greatly the metaphysical can influence the physical."

Running fingers through his long blonde hair, Morty looked away. "I know all about it."

Giovanni's head nodded and looked forward again. "Of course you do."

Eevee was walking at Gary's feet, his hair on end. Normally he would be playing with Mew in the ocean, but the whole situation was so twisted that he wanted to stay near his master. There might be trouble, and if the dog was going to fight, it would be by the side of his dear master. Fur shivering, the small dog leapt up to Gary's waist and climbed to his shoulder.

"I don't really get it." Oak asked. "You're just going to keep running the organisation that made you a slave?"

Giovanni shrugged in a manner that was inhuman, merely lifting the shoulders and dropping them. "Naturally I have altered the business direction slightly."

Peeking back at the skyscrapers of Cinnabar, windows suddenly gleaming at the dissolving daylight, it seemed so obvious in retrospect that a pokémon would be the one to stop the mob from kidnapping pokémon as weapons. Yet Gary could not help but think that more about Team Rocket had changed than business.

"You'll have to excuse me if I don't think of you as a saint." Gary said boldly, confident that the psychic wasn't so temperamental as to kill him over criticism. "You're making profit off the Kanto War, hey?"

"More than you know." Said Mewtwo through Giovanni's throat. "Hopefully this war will destroy the League and everything it represents."

Gary examined Giovanni's face in an attempt to pierce into his meaning until he realised that the only expression there was what Mewtwo allowed. Looking into the deepening sky, Oak thought about what Cinnabar had become – a prototype society where pokémon were equal citizens to humans. It seemed natural for Mewtwo, his mother a pokémon and his father human science, to desire to see both made the same.

A grimace pulled his face. It seemed evenly more natural considering his history of slavery.

Brock, who had been silent, spoke up, apparently reasoning along similar lines to Gary. "So if you think the whole pokémon training thing is enslavement," he began, trying to be careful with his words. "Then why not kill the penultimate trainer, the symbol of all you hate – A – the Champion."

Giovanni and Gary came to a furious stop simultaneously, and the dead body was the first to respond. His hands dropped from his pockets and his whole stance changed. The Resistance fighters could almost see Mewtwo's invisible form hulking over the mobster as he pointed accusingly at Stone-Baron. He and Morty jumped back in fright.

"I am _not _one of you bickering children!" The pokémon growled, his true voice rolling from Giovanni's lips. "I am a damned revolutionary! I'm creating a new world while eroding the old! It's the best I can do in lieu of a clear destiny." The gangster turned violently on Gary, approaching the taller trainer angrily. "I am nothing like you, abducting pokémon to use in over-hyped cock-fighting."

While Gary evenly met Mewtwo's glare, Eevee began to protest, squeaking emphatically, but the clone pokémon directed his puppet to cut him off.

"Save it, I've heard it all." Breaking lock with Oak, Giovanni angled to face all his guests, levitating dauntingly. "I am not like you! I could conquer the world in moments if I wanted to – in the course of this conversation I have cracked your Eevee's genetic code and could clone a thousand by morning."

Hovering high over the humans, Giovanni looked down with hands outstretched and eyes burning with channelled psychic energy. Brock stepped back fearfully, while Morty and Gary, used to horrors, stood their ground. Mew noticed the fury and drifted nearby, ready to step in if things came to blows.

"Did you know there is a pokémon in the upper atmosphere that destroys every feeble human effort to enter space? Do you know why? I do." Purple energy was cracking over Giovanni's suit like a fire, twisting into arcane symbols and tableaus of events long forgotten. "Have you bartered wisdom with Ho-oh on his burning mountain? Have you swum mysteries in Lugia's watery abyss, tracked the threads of time at Celebi's side?" Giovanni's hands were raised over his head, the dead criminal suddenly appearing as a god. "The secrets of the universe have been read to me, and there is still more for me to learn. Did you think this petty war was so important?"

The puppet's inferno eyes turned to Gary with the force of a hyper beam, and the trainer's heart squeezed in his chest. Eevee instinctively leapt from his shoulder.

"The clairvoyant was right, Oak. You cannot truly defeat Ketchum."

Of all the truths in life, beautiful and ugly alike, this one was for Oak the hardest to hear. Teeth grinding, Gary's hand went for his rifle, but both arms were instantly pressed to his side by external force – he couldn't tell if it was Mewtwo or Mew.

"Damn your prophecies!" Gary spat.

Giovanni's look grew less ferocious, but remained hard. "Ash _is_ chosen. He is not infallible, but he has been marked by fate."

Brock found new courage in his offence, stepping forward with his fist clenched and high. "You expect me to accept that all his crimes are now _justified_?"

Mewtwo's glow in Giovanni's eyes died down and the mobster was placed gently back on the ground, back in character. "No." The mobster said with a false smile, placing his hands back into his pockets. "He's used fate as a licence to do as his heart wavers. But you don't know why Ash must live, just as you don't know why space has been forbidden to you."

Bent double, Gary clutched his head in pain. His arms were now free and no mental force was being applied to him, but memories were flickering in his head like a broken film reel. It was Misty, sitting with on the roof of the Cerulean Gym, begging him to save Ash, save Ash, save Ash. This had to be Mewtwo's work.

"Fate is a lie." He argued feebly through his teeth. Eevee rubbed against his shin worriedly and Mew flew closer, keen to help like a child, but similarly unsure how. "Fate lied to me."

Mewtwo looked down on the Pallet trainer through Giovanni's eyes with detached pity. At length he lifted the mobsters hand and pointed out to sea.

The memory assault on his brain lifting, Gary was able to join the others in following the Team Rocket Boss's indication. As he did so, a huge Gyrados burst from the water, uncharacteristically close to shallow water. The blue scaled beast flopped onto the sand, writhing thickly.

As Gary and his companions stared at this display wondering both what was going on and why this was of interest to them. That's when the sea serpent wound up and with a wet wretch vomited up... a person. Giovanni and the Resistance stared dumbly until Gary noticed orange hair.

Sprinting through the relenting sand, Eevee bound close behind, Gary zoomed towards Misty and her exhausted Gyrados, who was circled protectively around her. Jumping and sliding over the water dragon's slick wet scales, the tall man landed beside the girl he longed to see. She was drenched in saliva and wasn't moving.

"Misty?" He cried, as the others approached. "Are you alright right?"

To Gary's considerable relief, she stirred and looked up at him blurry eyed. "I've just spent who-knows how many hours inside a Gyrados stomach. What the hell do you think?" The redhead said, trying to scaffold her weak voice.

Eevee barked happily. "Ee! Eeeevee!"

Laughing, Gary pulled her upright, cautious not to get the pokémon spit on his clothes. Brock was less picky, immediately crushing the girl in a bear hug.

"Air! Air!" She whimpered, and the olive-skinned man let her go, immediately shouting at his dear friend.

"What in the world are you doing!?"

Sighing, Misty fell backwards into the sand, breathing in the cool beach atmosphere greedily. Lapping waves was a far more wonderful sound now she was on dry land as she should be. "Ah, real air!"

"Here is your proof of fate." Giovanni said, standing before the new arrival and her welcoming party, uncaring of the sand in his expensive shoes. Morty stood politely to the side. "She was able to escape before the fighting began."

Misty stared at the mobster without recognition, while the others shot him a serious look. Brock asked the obvious question. "Fighting? What's happening at Indigo Plateau?"

Distant below the Cinnabar volcano, Mewtwo's face bore a dry smirk that mirrored the one he sculpted on Giovanni's face. "It is truly sad when one's enemies are more reliable than one's allies."

-- --

May decided to give up for now. The absence of the wife was perfect for Ash-hunting, but the Champion seemed to have disappeared somewhere. He'd turn up though. For now, she wandered, making light conversation with the help, half-hoping to stumble across Ash.

She found herself at in the front hall. On one side were the impressive front stair wells, flanking an over-seeing higher level like a scene from a Victorian bodice-ripper. On the other side was the impressive Main Gate, rimmed with statues of pokémon, the cornerstone the mark of the League, five feet high. Around the door was about half-a-dozen guards at attention, armed with pikes and even issued firearms. Seeing the Elite Second approach, they slammed their feet in unison and saluted smartly. Waving with her fingers prettily, May approached.

"Hey boys." She greeted, smiling. The guards smiled back. May was popular with the troops, partly because she was hot, partly because she was the most approachable of the elite League trainers, and partly because her 'frustrations' would occasionally result in a lucky night for one of the rank'n'file.

"Good evening, Ma'am." One answered, presumably the sergeant. "Enjoying a walk?"

"Yeah, quiet night." May looked at the gate – tall and thick, a formidable defence against direct assault. Thinking of the view of Kanto immediately outside gave her an idea and she turned to the sergeant. "Hey, did the Champion head out to the gardens or anything?"

A shaking head brought down her idea. "No Ma'am. We haven't seen him for the entire shift."

Sucking in her lips in irritation, May weighed up staying to chat versus an overly optimistic search. As she mulled, she heard some faint noises on the other side of the gate – noises that must have been loud to penetrate all the way though the thick wall.

"Do you hear that?" She asked, leaning closer. The sergeant did likewise, and they as one recognised the sounds – shouts and explosions.

Looking at each other sharply, May opened her mouth to dispense orders but never got the chance. A thick white beam shattered the gate in an earth-shaking quake, burying May and the guards deep in rubble. Through the smoking wound in the palace a pair of large Dragonites stalked into the hall, crushing chunks under their feet.

The two yellow dragons launched thunderous hyper beams at anything resembling a guard or defence mechanism. Blowing large holes in the marble walls and raining rubble over the art was just the start, as in a bright white light lit up between the two dragons, revealing the dark form of Sabrina. Thrusting out her palms, she blew out a spherical blast of invisible energy, smashing the walls, cutting a bite out of the overhang and leaving a large crater in the floor.

Satisfied that the immediate defences had been silenced, Sabrina looked back as Lance back over the rubble, shooting pursuers and survivors as he followed.

Seeing that the others had done their job, the short man span, his cape swinging wildly, and pointed his great dragon-head halberd forward. "Don't just stand around!" He shouted. "Let's get going!"

He ran over the concave floor, driving to push deeper into the palace. His Dragonites lifted themselves into the air and flew after him, but the trio stopped when something happened on the remains of the overhang.

Darkness was lashing out with physical form, rising out of the shadows. Lacing together into a human shape, the unlight knit into a pale, shapely woman in a black dress – though she was strangely repulsive to look at. Lance's upper lip rose – Karen, the Elite First.

Unmentionable sucked on her finger, smiling in amusement as another figure emerged, drifting upside down from the roof. Seated in an old chair, the ancient immobile form of Agatha twisted and settled down next to Night-Whisper, her old flesh swimming in otherworldly sorcery.

Glancing to the left, Lance saw another way onward. He had no time to waste with the witch and the monster. Sabrina floated up behind him, and opening a mental channel.

_I will address this matter,_ she advised. _Proceed onward to the Champion._

Not bothering to thank the psychic, Lance charged onward, his two Dragonites following wordlessly. As the Resistance Leader blitzed the palace, Sabrina kept her eyes on the two monstrosities looked down on her. They made no attempt to stop the Ex-Champion.

"Why look at this," Karen began in her husky voice, running her moist finger along her collar bone. "She looks absolutely delicious..." It was unsure in what sense she meant the word.

Sitting in her chair, the Mystic of Hell opened her gaping mouth, empty of teeth and full of nothing, and laughed with sinister abandon. Before these two evils Sabrina maintained her cool, plucking her pokéball from her side and releasing her Alakazam.

Karen saw the chitanous pokémon and gasped with a little too much pleasure. "Oh my," She said, trussing her lifeless white hair. "You do work fast – getting to the hot and sweaty business so soon..." Lifting her fingers, the black nails lengthened savagely.

"Enough."

The voice sounded from nowhere, but its source quickly made itself known as a figure appeared in a flash of white light. Will hovered before the nightmare things on the overhang, his scarf billowing in a non-existent gale. Pushing up his glasses with his gloved hands, he addressed those behind him without removing his sight from Sabrina.

"I will handle this."

Lowering himself steadily to the ground, he watched as Sabrina readied herself by coating her hands with sharp psychic energy. In response, Will teleported a swarm of pokéballs into the air around him, the cloud drifting around his form on telekinetic winds.

The Resistance psychic still hadn't made a move by the time Will's shoes touched the ground, so he decided to introduce himself.

"I'm not sure you know me." He opened, summoning a stout Chinese broad sword forged from mental energy into his hand. "I am have many names, mostly in inhuman, dead tongues, but I am Will the Saffron City Gym Leader, the Thought-Poet, Fair-Tongue, Argonaut, Knower, Everywhere-Step."

Sabrina narrowed her eyes. Even though neither was physically moving, a mental war had roared up, each combatant's psyche pressing forcefully on the other's. The abstract wrestling match was already growing challenging for Sabrina – this was not one of the Saffron amateurs.

Recognising this League lackey as a human, unlike those spectating from the boxes, Sabrina decided to respond.

"I am aware of your talent." That was as close as she would go toward complimenting an opponent.

Will tipped his head and smiled threateningly, stepping up the mental battle a notch. The pokéballs hovering around his head gained speed, orbiting him like planets. "And who hasn't heard of Sabrina, the world's greatest psychic, my predecessor?" He waved his sword for emphasis. "Scrambler, Seer of the Muttering Hall, the Forbidden Child!"

The pokéballs about his head cracked open, and there was a thunderstorm of red beams releasing his entourage of pokémon. Alakazam glanced at his master, wondering if they were going to make an attack at any point. But she was silent, stoic.

Red light clearing, Will was suddenly hidden by a forest of black limbs, each of his pokémon woven from black pipes rimming large unblinking eyes. Unown – and every variation thereof, by the looks of it. Psychic energy flowing across the Unown, gathering and collecting into a giant psychic entity, the Unown moved as one, their dimensionally foreign intellects acting as a hive mind.

Flicking his hand, Will ordered his pokémon to surround him and his opponents in a large ring, walled by an impenetrable psychic field and traced with the turning patterns of Unown. The psychic energy redoubling over their bodies shimmered like a mist, drowning the lobby from sight. Sabrina's eyes narrowed as she examined the wall of pokémon, staring in at her with a thousand alien eyes. Will wasn't smiling anymore.

He pointed his sword and took his stance. Light glared off the lenses of his glasses, hiding the look in his eyes. In a low voice he said. "Have at you."

In a split second Sabrina teleported behind Will and slashed with her mind-blades. The League Psychic was quick to teleport too, appearing behind Sabrina and striking with his sword.

The dark-haired woman parried with one hand and stabbed with the other, but Will had already vanished in white light. He appeared five metres to the right, where Alakazam was waiting for him. The brown pokémon held forth his spoons and unleashed a psybeam, but again Will disappeared. Flashing in and out of existence up and down the field in disorienting fashion, the psychic finally settled on the other side of the ring.

Expressionless, Sabrina stepped forward to make another attack, only to leap back out of the way of a mental blast. As the cratered ground exploded, she glanced to see that one of the circling Unown had fired upon her. Raising psychic fields, she and Alakazam weathered a battering of psybeams from all direction.

Sensing seven Unown combining their power into an almighty attack, Sabrina teleported out of the way at the last moment, wasting their efforts. Appearing again on the opposite side of the ring to Will, she tilted her head in an effort to think of a solid strategy, maintaining heavy mental pressure on her opponent. Outside the blue hue of the Unown cage she could hear Agatha and Karen laughing.

Will shrugged and adjusted a fingerless glove. "This looks like it could get interesting."

-- --

Every hall he rounded made Lance angrier. Every statuette, golden decoration, marble tile prodded his quaking rage. When he had been Champion, he had maintained a level of necessary of grandeur to the aesthetic of Indigo City – after all, the common people needed to see that times were bountiful and that things were good. Such luxuries were a comfort to them.

But _this_ – this was showy opulence, stateliness in the fashion of the Old World that Lance had torn down. The Champion was taking his might to the stage, flexing the muscles of Kanto. This was not about appeasing a nervous public; this was a Tower of Babel. To what heights did the Great Kanto Trainer desire to build his empire?

"Stop -" A trainer of the Unassigned Corps attempted to order, but Lance blasted him with a burst from his triangular Steyr AUG without looking. His two Dragonites didn't even pause, barging through a nearby wall in search for the king of all this madness.

There was another trainer together with his Porygon on the other side, stunned at the wall suddenly exploding. The trainer was instantly speared by Lance's halberd while the digital bird was crushed by a Dragonite fist.

Another endless hall flew out in front of him, and the Dragon Master roared in frustration.

"Where are you!?" He shouted, slamming the butt of his weapon into the rubble-laden floor. He would find the so-called 'Chosen One' if he had to tear the palace to tatters himself. "Show yourself a man and fight me!"

There was no immediate answer, and Crest-Holder pointed with his rifle at a wall. The nearest Dragonite did not hesitate to open his jaws and launched a puncturing hyper beam, caving the thick stone. Advancing unhindered, he thread through the hole into the area beyond, followed closely by his pokémon.

His cape fluttered to a sudden halt at what was beyond. There was a stair not far opposite, and sitting upon it was Ash, waiting.

Pikachu was with him, standing patiently on a step. The Champion had a black katana in hand and an M-16 lay across his lap. Lance stared in appreciation at his dark cape but with disapproval at his black cap. The young man was strong-limbed and boyishly handsome, wearing a light innocence over his frame. It was easy to see why people would follow him. Despite himself, despite everything, Lance felt pride grow within his rage at how the boy had grown up.

The yellow rat glared at Lance before quickly sizing up his two Dragonites. Lance's pokémon in turn kept their eyes firmly on the small electric pokémon, too smart to assume the massive size difference would mean anything.

At length, the Great Kanto Trainer lifted his head slightly, latching the Dragon Master with a complicated look. Reaching up, the younger man twisted the cap around his forehead, revealing the death-skull on the back.

"Hi Dad." Ash said softly.

-- --

Continued next chapter.


	21. Ideology 3

**Disclaimer**: Do I really need a disclaimer? I mean, seriously, if you don't know that Nintendo owns Pokémon, then why are you reading this?

-

**Grasping the Moon**

Chapter 21 – Ideology 

Part 3

Sabrina prided herself on her mental discipline, and was known for her particular talent for tolerating frustration, but the situation was beginning to get to her. In the arenas of psychic talent, she had always been in a league of her own – even her immediate family, the next in order of ability, were far behind her. But Will, this Argonaut, he outstripped all others – he was even superior to Sabrina in some ways.

He was a true master of teleportation. Every flickering exchange left Sabrina the worse off. It was truly irritating to meet someone who was legitimately better.

Taking quick stock of the situation, Sabrina saw the wall of Unown continuing to orbit and take pot shots at her, and her Alakazam continuing to intercept with his psychic field. At least she could focus solely on the League psychic.

_He may__ be a better teleporter, _She told herself, jumping into the air. As she flew, the bespectacled geek appeared over head, his sword already swinging. _But I exceed him in brute psychic strength!_

Clapping her hands together, Sabrina exploded a pulsing psywave. Will went white mid-swing, vanishing. Beams and attacks that hit a single point were two easy for 'Everywhere-Step' to dodge, but attacks the swept out over an area would force him to retreat. It was a good counter.

"Hyah!"

Sabrina fell back wide-eyed as her opponent appeared behind the ripple of the psywave, directly in her face. He had his hands spread around his glasses.

"Hypnosis!" He cried, the sound echoing through the air as his eyes went straight white. Caught flat-footed, the mind-numbing energies gleaming from Will's eyes tried to trick Scrambler into sleep. He almost mastered her, but Sabrina was better than that, summoning blue energies from deep within and letting them explode from her body. It was an unrefined, partially desperate defence, but it was enough to drive Will back and relieve her of the assault on her consciousness.

The nerd flashed back into the physical world several metres in front of her. Sabrina shook her head to sweep away the last of the weariness. Caution was required; Will was intelligent, he would be changing his strategy as well. She wasn't used to this sort of fight - no one had ever survived against her long enough to have the opportunity.

"Wow." Thought-Poet said, loosening the scarf around his neck. "You really are good – I thought for sure that would work."

Fair-Tongue was probably trying to lower her defences with conversation, so Sabrina retaliated by attacking his brain directly. She thrust in a mental spike, but he psychically palmed off the assault.

"I have a question." He asked, placing one hand in his pocket. Alakazam took a quick break from keeping the Unown at bay to fire a psybeam into Will's unprotected side, but the canny psychic raised a lazy reflect barrier and warded off the blast. "You're psychic, you know who my boss is. Who he really is, I mean. Why are you fighting him?"

As Will put forward his query, he gently loosened the constant mental pressure he was putting on Sabrina. She mentally unbalanced and stumbled forward in real life, but he didn't take advantage. Narrowing her eyes, it occurred to Scrambler that he was honestly curious.

_I suppose one of us will end up dead anyway..._ she figured, watching Will wait for the response. _And he was respectful enough not to try and rip the answer from my mind..._

Resetting her feet, Sabrina straightened and looking into Will's glasses flatly, her creepy stare washing over the inscrutable glare of his lenses.

"Why do I care if Destiny has adopted Ketchum as her very own?" She asked. "I was too."

Listening carefully, Will cocked his head and shifted his glasses. "Because you were born with such prodigious psychic ability." He surmised.

Sabrina's brow folded lightly, the greatest display of emotion she had given in a long time. "I was the Forbidden Child. People feared me. And even now, I have no true friend – I am used for my strength. I am never valued as being me." The Seer of the Muttering Hall's hand clenched involuntarily, catching Will's attention. "Fate and its gifts are a curse."

Pity wanted to soak into his face, but Will hardened it. He wondered if the woman across the ring to him had ever tried opening up to others, or had merely hid behind the facades and strengths she was accustomed to. In the end, he didn't have the right to say, not truly knowing her himself. At any rate, it was her title that was of interest to him, not her childishness.

Removing his glasses in what he hoped seemed like honesty, he eased his tone. "If you beat me now, you still have to fight the two out there, and there's no way you'll beat them." He advised, the hairs on the back of his neck detecting the dark fiends laughing from the sidelines. "What is the point of this?"

Sabrina looked like she wasn't sure herself, but she quickly covered it up with determination. Igniting the psyche-blades around her hands, she charged forward in a fireball of burning energy, so fast that Will almost didn't get his ward up.

"To strike at fate!" She yelled, stabbing with her weapons.

-- --

Lance stabbed with his halberd, pushing his son back down the hall with an advancing weave of long-range jabs. Ash dodged easily, slipping naturally over rubble as he gave ground, casually deflecting the pole arm whenever the dragonhead slipped too close. Observing that he could not counter with his father so effectively using the longer reach of his weapon, the Champion couldn't help but sneer.

"You always kept me at a distance, didn't you Dad?"

The Dragon Master bared his teeth and coiled around, slashing at the head with his weapon. Ash easily ducked under, and Lance's pride couldn't take the fact that his son wasn't really trying. Crest-Holder did not accept second place to anyone – and to be exceeded by his own offspring!

"No one remembers if a great man loved his family!" He spat back, his eyes wide with anger. He thrust out with his Steyr AUG to fire point blank, but Ash deftly mirrored the action with his M-16, diverting the barrel of Lance's gun with the point of his own. As Lance's bullets chiselled the walls, The Ex-Champion couldn't help but be impressed with Ash's effortless precision, and immediately hated himself for it.

Bringing down his halberd, Lance found his attack blocked by Ash's rifle. Drawing his own firearm back into the fight, Lance found this too caught, parried by the Chosen One's sword. Ash took the moment to slam a foot into his father's stomach, sending the older man collapsing to the ground.

"What's so great about a man who doesn't love his family?" Ash asked, hovering over the Legend-Stalker, deciding not to follow up on the opportunity to remove his head. Gagging for breath, Lance glared up.

"'What's so _great'?_" He rumbled, grinding his teeth. "Do you have any idea what this nation was like before I became Champion? What the _League_ was like? It was gladiatorial combat!" Pushing down on the ground and upright, Lance met his son's eyes. "The League was organised blood sport."

Ash sniffed. "I've heard all about it."

"_I _changed it!" Lance went on, ducking down to grab his dropped pole arm. "People were dying in the streets, but I cleaned the place up. I even made the League a sport, an outlet for everyone's violent emotions." Lance glared into Ash's stone-face boldly. "There was peace, people were happy. How am I not great?"

At this Ash snorted in disgusted humour. "Were they now?"

Growling, Lance struck out again with his halberd. The Great Kanto Trainer jumped back easily. "_I_ was the one to make the sacrifice." He shouted, attacking again, but this time Ash didn't give ground, blocking and spinning in a counter, kicking up at his father's face. Lance jerked out of the way. "_I_ was the one killing in the shadows." The Resistance Leader tried again with his rifle, but Ash twirled his own around his hand and batted the gun out of the way with the rifle's butt. The younger man followed up with an elbow to Lance's collarbone.

As the would-be assassin fell back a step, he shook off the pain and attacked again. "I _alone_ can shoulder the protection of the League!" He screamed, leaping at his son, weapons akimbo. "I _alone_ can hurt!"

-- --

The little yellow rat had disappeared again. Looking up from behind the pillar Pikachu had ducked behind, Dragonite informed his partner with his eyes. Lance's other Dragonite grit his teeth and looked left and right, seeking their target.

"Pika?" The rat suddenly asked mockingly. The Dragonites turned a glared at Pikachu sitting lazily down the other end of the hall. Frustration was building - the electric pokemon had to be able to teleport or something – there was no way something could move faster than sight without disturbing the air.

The nearest Dragonite drew back and summoned a hyper beam. The wave of white destructive energy tore marble tiles from the walls. His partner waited to watch the rat dodge and catch him with a follow-up beam.

Matters went awry when, rather than slipping to the side, Pikachu disappeared altogether, appearing only as he drove his tiny rear paws into the first Dragonite's snout. Pikachu struck with such force that the larger pokemon, easily thirty times his weight, stumbled backward in pain. Reacting quickly if without thinking, the second, waiting Dragonite lashing out with his claws, only to find Pikachu gone and his blow landing on his comrade's face.

"Haaaaaooooo!" The injured Dragonite howled.

Dragonite number two raised his claws defensively. "Hooooo!"

"Chu." Pikachu comment, shaking his head at their poor teamwork. He was standing in the hole that Lance had ordered blown into the wall when he first confronted Ash. Both Dragonites, infighting and pain forgotten, twisted to take a firm stance. They had been well-trained not to underestimate based on appearances, but it was still strange to believe that this first-stage evolution could so easily toy with the pair of them. A tiny rodent, barely bigger than their fists – how could he be so strong?

Watching Pikachu cutely bob a long ear made the absurdity of the situation even more powerful. Neither of them were weaklings – they were to regular Dragonites what an abyss was to a pothole, yet this _house pet_ was giving them the run-around. Now he was just standing there looking condescending, cocky to the extreme.

As one, the two Dragonites narrowed their eyes. Perhaps that over-confidence was a weakness. They might be able to turn this...

That second, the second Dragonite, the one who struck his partner, felt a sudden warmth beneath his feet, as though the marble was on fire from under. Sudden revelation hit him, and the towering yellow dragon jumped back just in time for the floor to explode in a tower of fire.

"GRRRAAAAAR!" Charizard roared as he spouted from the flames, fire rolling from his tongue. The Dragonite who had just narrowly escaped ambush responded in kind, spewing black dragon-flames over his red enemy. The two dragons grappled violently, rolling through the walls like they were cardboard, painting each other with fire.

Pikachu sighed as he watched his old friend disappear down Indigo Palace's labyrinthine halls. This was just like the red dragon – Pikachu was polite enough to wait for him to arrive so that they could split the action, and Charizard simply dives right in without saying thanks. Shaking his small head again, could only reflect on how typical it was.

Swivelling his eyes to the remaining Dragonite, Pikachu could see that the great lizard hadn't moved, even when his friend had been attacked. The dragon was focussed, but that wouldn't be enough for a challenge. Maybe Pikachu should have gone ahead and fought both, if just to stretch his legs a bit.

For his part, Dragonite was growing angered at the way Pikachu was examining him, as though he was only assessed as a minor threat. He was one of Lance's prized dragons! Selected from legions of the most rare, powerful pokémon category! He would not be looked down upon.

Tensing up all his muscles, the yellow giant summoned up the power running through his body. He would overwhelm the little rat with as much force as he could possible gather, jamming all the physical energy he could into a single hyper beam. He had long been taught that packing even a third of his total strength into one attack could irrevocably decimate local infrastructure, but he reasoned that here, deep within enemy territory, any damage was good damage.

But reason didn't really factor in too highly – this was about pride. He was _not_ going to be beaten by a tiny little forest-dwelling _weak_ pokémon like a Pikachu. He was the Dragon Master's own! He was elite, and he was going to prove it by slaughtering this false League's very own mascot!

The walls began to quiver as Dragonite's eyes grew blind with white energy. Everything wooden within ten feet suddenly exploded into flames. Pieces of rubble suddenly hovered from the ground, buoyed by the compacted energy emitted from the dragon's inner being. Heavy slabs of dislodged stone were dragged across the ground towards him, caught by his own sudden gravity of power.

Pikachu regarded this with mild surprise, one brow drifting heavenward. He hadn't quite expected this opponent to be able to conjure up this amount of energy. The small rat was becoming a little curious to see what he would do with it.

Grinning across his short snout, Dragonite curved his back in the ecstasy of power. He had forgotten how good it felt to bring the full compliment of his powers to bear - the last time he had employed this much strength he had been helping build a railroad, puncturing a tunnel straight through a mountain in one blow.

Mastering his own strength and joy, Dragonite bent forward, condensing the furious power into a ball – yet even squeezed into its tightest, the ball of energy was still five times that of a regular hyper beam. Bring up his claws, Dragonite used more than just his breath to launch this colossal attack. There was a huge thunderclap as the great lizard slapped the ball with hands and head, immediately blowing out a huge sonic boom, ripping doors from their frames.

Pikachu blinked at the sudden gust of wind as it blew over his fur, flapping his ears and tail.

"Pi." He said in irritation, poking a tiny finger into his ear to shake out the ringing, Ash's first pokémon didn't even watch as the attack bore down on him.

The brightness of the blast killed all colour down the hall, washing everything into dull shades of gray. The pillars shivered at the force, and a mini-tornado wove around the beam as it burned up the atmosphere in the room. Like the burning lance of an infuriated god, Dragonite's ultimate hyper-beam froze time so all reality could bear witness to the thunderous wrath of the dragons.

Moments before the blast connected, Pikachu flicked up his paw without looking, still working at his ear. A thin white sheet unrolled in front of him, meshed from cobweb strands of light. The sum of Dragonite's efforts was caught on this light screen, which was angled just right to throw the pure train of energy over Pikachu's head, rolling the force through the many floors above and into the air.

As the yellow dragon gaped after his precious beam as it vanished into the sky like Team Rocket, Pikachu shook himself after restoring his hearing to an acceptable level. Button nose twitching at the smell of burned oxygen, Pikachu let his light screen unravel, looking as though he didn't really know what he'd just achieved.

_Psychological,_ Dragonite told himself, panting._ It's a psychological trick to scare you_. But mind games or no, that tiny little rat had just effortlessly deflected a battle-finishing attack. Staring, Dragonite could see Pikachu showered with light from the freshly drilled sunroof, the rays catching on the drifting particles of plaster and concrete, illuminating them like stars. All at once, the huggable pet was a great titan, around whom a whole galaxy spun – absolute, unmoving and inevitable like judgement.

A small smile parting his furry face, Pikachu announced sweetly: "Piika-chu." – A phrase that in human tongues roughly corresponded to 'my turn'.

Eyes wide, Lance's Dragonite stared as Pikachu's short yellow fur stood on end, his lightning-bolt tail twitching excitedly. The rat still wore a relaxed smile as electricity began to bridge over his chubby body. A distant tumbling – a growl thundering from the distance grew close, and the building shook as though grabbed in the hands of the universe. Pillars dislodged, sending more of the palace crumbling to the ground.

As Pikachu's lightning began to grow in size, lashing out to any metallic object in the ruined hall, Dragonite began to see value in a strategic withdrawal. Forcing a large hind leg into the air, the dragon attempted a step backwards, but stumbled. He was too exhausted from his hyper beam. Looking up at Pikachu, the centre of a huge nuclear reaction, he saw the rat start to glow. This could get ugly.

Something stung Dragonite's toes, and he looked down. Small snake of energy were creeping over the floor. The floor made of marble tiles. Pikachu was electrifying the stone – that wasn't physically possible, was it? Fear finally broke through the dragon's arrogance and rage, hooking into his chest.

Pikachu's smile had taken on some sort of demonic quality, the pokémon growing brighter as he accumulated more energy. Objects of any material were drifting around in a bubble of lightning, strung up by freakish magnetic fields. The voltage impossibly passing through the marble grew stronger and hungrier, slowly electrocuting Dragonite where he stood.

Things were fast becoming clear to the giant pokémon. He wasn't fighting a pokémon, he was fighting the vast limitless power of the sun. This wasn't a monster, this wasn't even an evil. This was the Devil himself.

Straining his aching wings, Dragonite tried to carry himself into the air, hoping to fly free of this place. Pikachu noticed, and with a flick of his wrist, said:

"Pi!"

A vast reservoir of energy broke from within the small rat, a sea of electricity rushing forth and exploding all the junk drifting in the air. Dragonite was knocked to the ground. The lightning snaking around Pikachu suddenly coiled, knitting into a ball in front of the rat's outstretched palm.

Fishing up his long neck, Dragonite stared with naked fear, recognising the attack. This wasn't thunder, or zap cannon – this was a thunder shock. Just a mere thunder shock.

A cruel glint sparking over Pikachu's eye, the rat bumped the ball of thunder forward. Rocketing with meteoric speed, the ball gave Dragonite hardly a moment to defensively raise an arm. The dragon saw yellow, and was erased from the world.

-- --

Laughing in animalistic joy, Charizard dragged Dragonite's head across the walls of the palace, tearing a long trench. The yellow dragon moaned in pain, but lashed out wildly with his thick tail, wrapping it around the red dragon's neck and pulling the red lizard off him. Now free, Dragonite slammed Charizard through the floor, pursuing through the hailing wreckage.

Head-butting the falling Charizard in the stomach did little to phase the fire dragon, despite being hit with enough force to push him through another floor. Clasping his opponent, Ash's most violent pokémon twisted and tossed Dragonite into the next floor with seismic force, then drove his heavy legs into the yellow dragon's abdomen, slamming him deep underground.

They fell, as though passing from earth down into hell, into the vast black dungeons that Charizard called his home. Throwing Dragonite down one of the pits, the war-mad dragon roared in laughter.

"Hoooo!" Dragonite spat back, turning his fall into a flight, stretching his wings. Charizard was soon upon him, though, and the two engaged in a vicious dogfight. The fiery pokémon forced the pure dragon further down, away from the redemption of light.

As the battle grew increasingly brutal, Charizard's body temperature sky-rocketed. Indeed, in these lightless voids, the only light was from the ever-burning flame on Charizard's tail, casting an orange glow over the stone walls as they plummeted ever deeper.

Dragonite was a reptile, and heat generally spurred him to action, but even he had limits. Not liking the way the atmosphere was growing ever-hotter, he decided to go for a killshot. Gathering an inner coldness, Dragonite unleashed his secret weapon – a crackling ice beam. Firing at the flame on Charizard's tail, he caught his brutal foe off guard, icing up the end of the appendage.

Coiling away in victory, Dragonite howled. He'd done it! He'd killed the beast – Everyone knew that when a Charizard's tail was doused, death was instant. Now to help his brother-in-arms.

Suffice to say, he was surprised when the supposedly dead dragon roared ferociously. Dragonite stared in dull amazement as Charizard blew a fountain of fire into the air, and in a wave of sudden heat, shattered the icy stump with a sudden flare of his tail.

Before he could wonder at how the pokémon survived, Dragonite was slashed across the face. His blood splattered across the walls, instantly sizzling then flaking off. This small event reflected over Dragonite's glassy eyes – just how hot was it getting down here?

"CHAARRR..." Erupted from Charizard's mouth as he wrapped his clawed hands around the other lizard's large neck. Dragonite cried out as he felt the red hands burn his scales and flesh – Charizard was as hot as steel fresh from the forge.

Charizard's battle roar somehow turned into fire, bathing Dragonite in ever-increasing heat. Fire spouted from his eyeballs and from deep within his ears as Charizard's inner heat spilled over – the two tumbling into the bottomless depths, burning wreckage collapsing from heaven. Dragonite's scream was lost in the sound of feasting flames as wounds opened all over Charizard's body, tongues of fire licking out and instantly burning the openings shut again.

All was fire and at some point, Charizard wasn't sure when, even Dragonite's ashes were burned to nothing, leaving the red dragon to fall, his sudden flames dying. The light went with them, and the tumbling dragon was eaten up by the darkness.

-- --

Warding away Sabrina's relentless strikes desperately, Will found himself slowly overwhelmed. Constantly retreating into the white light of teleportation, he would no sooner appear as have to lift his sword in defence. It didn't matter how good he was at cheating physics, Sabrina's constant pressing would keep him on the back foot, and then he'd inevitably lose – Surge had taught him that much.

_It seems things have come to last resorts_, Will reflected, parrying Sabrina's hand-blades with his broad sword in one hand and blasting her away with a psionic pulse with the other. He frowned. _ I had hoped to have this progress smoother._

Sabrina was in his face again, maintaining a blaring mental assault along with her physical blows. Will stood his ground and tossed forward his sword. The purple psychic blade burst into a thousand pellets of energy like a shotgun shell, and Sabrina instantly threw up her hands to defend.

As she did so, Will snatched her up with psychic energy and tossed her. She barrelled towards her Alakazam, still shielding her from his circling Unown, but she stopped herself just short. The Forbidden Child looked up, surprised that Fair-Tongue would think that would work.

"What did you-"

But Will had gathered all the time he needed. Thrusting out his hands, he directed all the orbiting Unown to attack simultaneously.

A mountain of psychic pressure was dumped on Sabrina and her Alakazam, who threw up a combined reflect field only moments fast enough. Knees buckling, the two of them struggled under the strength of the attack, desperately feeding all their power into the field.

Will joined with his pokémon in applying as much pressure as possible. This was a risky gambit – if the Resistance psychic somehow escaped this, or had the pressure relent for even a moment, she could teleport out and find Thought-Poet completely open. Clenching his teeth, Will leaned forward and focussed harder, his glasses slipping down his nose.

Outside the blue walls webbing the Unown together, Karen and Agatha watched in open rapture. Karen ran her hands lustfully over her dress while the Witch bobbed her talismans in the tension.

"So sad!" The Monster uttered huskily, her fingers tracing below her breasts. "They are both struggling so hard!"

In response, Agatha grinned, revealing her purple gums.

"Gah!"

Sabrina's knee betrayed her, falling to the cratered floor. Alakazam was fading fast too, his legs shaking like a twanged elastic band. Will saw victory within sight, and poured on the power, his scarf whipping wildly in the invisible psychic currents.

"No..." Sabrina growled through clenched teeth, her neat hair curling and twisting like the mane of medusa. Resisting as fiercely as she could, her carefully carved stoic demeanour, developed over years of emotional distance, begun to peel from her face. Lines formed, teeth showed, and expression leaked through – the countenance of despair.

Then something broke. Her straight-cut hair split, slashing around in the air as though caught in crashing surf. Hidden depths of power burst from the base of Sabrina's soul like a volcano, from a place she didn't know existed. Psychic force exploded from her body, blue clouds rising and lifting the combined press of the Unown upon her. Alakazam was terrified, ignorant of what was happening. Against the assaulting weight, she stood up.

Will was stunned, but didn't let up his attack. Everything was banked in this final blow – it had to work. Squeezing the air hard, Argonaut pulled every dreg of strength from his mind to throw at the Rebel.

"No!" He cried. "Stay down!"

It was to no avail. Sabrina's new found power blossomed from her flesh, overcoming the League's power. With an uncharacteristic scream, she lashed the space in front of her, dispersing the Unown's power and releasing her. The backlash struck Will in the chest, sending him flying.

Her eyes possessed of a purple energy, Sabrina looked around at the spinning pokémon, inscrutable in their cycloptic features but stunned at her amazing turn around. Snarling, she reached out and clenched at the air, blue fire burning her clothes.

As though a great wrench had been thrown into a machine, the gears of the spinning Unown were clogged up. Flexing unheard of psychic might, she halted their constant turn, though they struggled to follow the patterns that gave them power. Then, in a move akin to turning the stars back in the sky, she pulled the extra-dimensional pokémon back into paths contrary to the one's their enigmatic minds demanded.

"What?" Will cried, watching as the blue mental walls broke down and his legion of Unown pokémon fluttered blindly, lost without their pack-mind. As his cage fell apart like the Indigo Palace around them, the League Psychic pushed himself to his feet. "No, I won't let this happen!"

Summoning up as powerful a psybeam as he could, Thought-Poet launched the multi-faceted attack, but it splashed harmlessly against Sabrina's invincible might. Natural light restored, she scattered Will's pokémon with a growl, standing as the winner of the field.

Then darkness formed around her feet, and out of the shadows leapt black Houndooms, digging their deadly jaws into her flesh. Sabrina screamed in pain, and Alakazam moved to help, but he too was pounced upon by shadow-hounds, his armoured body cracking under their teeth. As Sabrina was dragged to the ground, Karen herself leapt from the darkness, biting into the psychic's neck.

Will staggered to his feet, cradling his ribs. He saw his opponent screaming and kicking futilely, torn apart by the wolves, but was oblivious to Karen's interference, blocking it from his own mind.

"I did it!" He shouted as loud as he could without hurting his side. Turning away from the sick feast, he yelled into the sky. "There, I did it! I'm the number one psychic in the world; I'm so great and powerful!" Clenched his gloved fist he shook it in pain. "I'm the perfect killer – was that really so worth it Janine?"

As he cried from deep in his heart, Karen and her hounds enjoyed their meal, and Agatha watched on greedily, licking her fingers at the thought of blood.

-- --

Spinning the shaft of his halberd like a windmill, Lance tried more elaborate means of landing a blow on his son. Artfully slamming out with is weapon, he attacked from every angle, but Ash met each attack easily. Rolling to the floor, the Crest-Holder tried to sweep his opponent's feet, but Ash bounced into the air. Teeth showing, Lance lashed out with his other foot.

Ash twisted mid-air, avoiding the boot, but leaving himself open to a whack from his father's polearm. Catching the neck of the weapon, Ash was forced towards the wall. Bracing himself with his feet, he was pinned.

Moving fast, Lance jumped onto the opposite wall, similarly setting his feet onto its face, so that the only thing keeping the pair suspended as the pressure he was putting on his weapon. His enraged look turned to a smile as he recognised that the Champion was stuck.

"Got you." He said, raising his Steyr AUG. Unintimidated, Ash let go of the spear-head, allowing the blade to pass just short of his side into the wall behind him. The shock disrupted Lance's aim, and Ash tore his cape free and swung around the impromptu gymnastics bar, landing on his feet.

As he fell, Lance swept up his weapon for a shattering overhead blow, but Ash, barely looking, pointed his M-16 and fired a single shot. The bullet chiselled the dragon-shaped head of the weapon, knocking the halberd from Lance's hands and sending it clattered to the tiles behind him.

"Damn!" Lance let slip, gripping his Steyr AUG. He could try a quick draw with the Great Kanto Trainer, but considering how things had gone so far, that would probably end badly. He needed to talk his son, let his overconfidence combine with distraction and create a weakness. The moment one appeared Lance would skewer his child through.

Backing slowly towards his stolen weapon, Lance met Ash's eyes, which were clouded with emotions. This made Lance sneer more. "So," he said, surprising his son. "Was it base spite for your absentee father that drove you to destroy all my hard work and murder the world's happiness?"

Ash's dark eyebrows lowered dangerously. "This isn't about you and me. What you were killing behind the scenes to build was an illusion."

This got under Lance's skin. "An illusion?!" He roared, spittle flying. Fury temporarily forgot about his lost pole arm. "There was peace! The madness of the Old World was vanquished!" He pointed accusingly. "The world was better off without Winona-style heathens, that's for sure!"

Ash matched Lance's pointing finger with the tip of his sword, and it was like the blade cut through the Dragon Master's emotional defences.

"You brainwashed people into smiles and food on the table and lovey-dovey sentiment – it was all false. Your New World was empty – people carried their secret hurts and questions, never finding any relief." Ash's voice was rising, the years of emotional abuse from his father rising up uncontrollably. "People were always wondering what their lives were for, if there was something more." A strong look was set behind his moistening eyes. "_That_ is what my League is for."

"So you're just like me." The words flew along Lance's tongue without his brain interceding, and both parties flinched physically at their sound.

"I am NOT!" Ash shouted reflexively, slashing wildly. His father sprung back with blinding speed, but still only just barely avoided losing his nose. Back flipping, the Dragon Master snatched up his halberd, just in time to parry the Champion's follow-up strike. "I am _not_ like you!" The Chosen One repeated, his face close up to his father's.

Lance kicked at his son's shins, and as the boy backed up, he tried to come in with his rifle, but Ash brutally bashed it out of the way with his own. He clearly still wanted to talk.

"For so long I wanted to be the very best so I could beat you." Ash said, anger in his tone. His hair was a worse mess than ever. "But then I saw what the League was, what Kanto was, and I captured it. Now I've trained it to be better than you ever made it." Smiling hatefully, Ash cocked his head and attempting to smooth his wild hair. "I've beaten you in so many ways."

This last statement caused Lance's muscles to freeze up in terror and fury. Lurching forward, the Dragon Master jabbed with his halberd. "Is that right?" He yelled irrationally as Ash bounced efficiently out of the way. "Well, if you're so much better than me, then how come you are doing exactly what I did, huh?" Spitting on the floor at his son's feet, he went on. "You're just making another new world, like I did!"

Staring at the splash of saliva that had fallen just short of his boots, Ash found so many emotions at play that it felt like he was experiencing nothing. Looking up at his father, the bastard who had walked out on him and his mother on a self-righteous quest to build a charade of tranquillity, he somehow found that he was beyond the hatred. He couldn't work up the loathing to try and torture him with words. The Champion could only say what he truly thought.

"No." He said, with a quivering calm. "I'm done with all that – the champions of the old world always end up the dragons of the new one." Looking around the decimated revelry of the Indigo Palace as though in a strange place, he went on. "We're going to find a different world – we, everyone; we're going to work together to thrust me up into the night sky." He joined eyes with his father again. "And once I'm up there, I've got to be strong enough to pull everyone else up."

Lance's mind was only hatred and fear, which bred ignorance. Shaking his head, the dismantling Ex-Champion scoffed. "What the hell are you talking about?" He said, ignoring the contents of his son's ramblings. "You're just making up some dream and forcing it on everyone else."

Calmly, with almost machine precision, Ash spun broadly, unrolling with his katana. Lance was stunned at the Chosen One's speed, almost unable to get his halberd into defence fast enough. The blade sunk almost half-way through the hardened wood.

Flicking the base of his polearm up, he hoped to deliver a bone-squishing hit into Ash's jaw. To the elite trainer's surprise, he hit only black cape, as the Great Kanto Trainer was already coiling around the side. Jamming down with the butt of his gun, Lance hoped to crack his son's skull, but again he hit nothing, only to have Ash grab the rifle and twist it from his hands.

"In your day, Dad, the League was Conformity." Ash said, tossing the triangular gun away and continuing around behind Legend-Stalker.

Growling savagely, Lance turned – ready to pierce Ash with his dragon-headed weapon. Seeing his target, he speared forward. The Chosen One slipped to the side like a mist, and grabbed the weapon with one hand and his father's military uniform with the other.

"But now," Ash went on, using his father's forward force to flip him over his head. "The League is Hope!"

As the Dragon Master arched overhead, Ash pulled up his M-16 and set it on his stomach. Pulling the trigger, he tore a hole through the flying man's torso, spraying his face with his father's blood.

The body tumbled onto the ground and rolled crudely over the shredded debris. Ash stared blankly at his father's remains for a moment. There he was, the once mighty man who his mother adored – who _he _adored, was nothing more than mangled flesh on a battlefield. Even knowing everything the Dragon Master had done to his own family, it was still strange.

Feeling a little groggy, Ash turned to leave and find Pikachu.

A hiss caught his attention, and Ash turned back to watch in shock as his father pushed his shivering form off the ground. His uniform was growing red, and he was covered in cuts from the fall, but pride kept Lance moving. Ash gaped as his father struggled up onto his feet, a hand clenching his wound closed.

"Do your old man a favour." The Dragon Master said without humour. Even as his body was breaking down around them, Lance's eyes were still stark and powerful. "Make it a good death."

Unsure precisely why he was accommodating this man who had never even given him an affectionate look, Ash brought his black katana to eye-level. Lance couldn't even to manage a smile for his son for granting his dying request. The movement was so fast that Lance didn't even realise his head had been cut off until he saw his decapitated body pass underneath his eyes.

Watching as both parts of his father finally struck the floor, Ash tarried a moment as if expecting the body to mystically reanimate and haunt him. But nothing of the sort happened, and Ash turned to leave so he could cry in peace.

-- --

Continued next chapter (yes, 4 parts!)


	22. Ideology 4

**Disclaimer**: Do I really need a disclaimer? I mean, seriously, if you don't know that Nintendo owns Pokémon, then why are you reading this?

-

**Grasping the Moon**

Chapter 22 – Ideology 

Part 4

May groaned as light suddenly hit her face. Slowly creeping back into consciousness, she briefly wondered why she was sleeping on a concrete slab and using rocks as blankets. Then her memory kicked in and she pushed onto her elbows in a desperate effort to assess the situation.

"Careful," Came a familiar voice from above. It was Will, the boulder that had until recently been sitting on her face levitating near his head. "You should rest a bit."

Looking around, May saw that the main lobby was the victim of intense artillery fire. There was a giant crater in the centre, freckled with dozens of smaller ones. Was that blood over there?

Amidst the rubble that was the main gate, May saw members of the Unassigned Corps and their pokémon digging out the guards that had been buried with her. Blinking as drowsiness netted her mind; she grabbed her head and looked up at Will.

"What happened?"

"We were attacked." The Psychic replied shortly. "The Boss and I took care of it."

Staring again at the destruction as Will mentally removed the rest of the rubble pinning her, May was somewhat relieved that she was unconscious for the duration. "What, did the Rebels drop meteorites on us?"

A snort of laughter escaped Will's nose, but he remained silent. With his mind he floated a blanket around her shoulders and a mug of something hot into her hand. Clasping the blanket, May marvelled at Will's concern. Taking a sip from her drink (cocoa), May watched his face. He looked very tired and distant.

Patting her face, May felt a few stings through the numbness of shock. Sighing heavily, she began to get to her feet as she was at last freed from her bed of debris.

"Gee," she commented as Will helped her to her feet. "I must look like a mess."

Rolling his eyes, the psychic's aura went blue, and May felt a warm, refreshing feeling run down her body. She didn't sting anymore. Blinking her pretty eyes, May stared at the ratty coat on Will's back. Did he just heal her?

Mystified at the geek's strangely obliging attitude, May sipped again at her drink. They set off picking their way through the rubble, avoiding the rescue crews. "Is Ash alright?"

Will stopped and stared off into space somewhere, probably doing some of his mind-stuff to check. After a moment, he bobbed his head indecisively. "We should probably give him some space right now."

Regarding the Gym-Leader critically, May decided to follow his advice. Looking around as men busied themselves rescuing survivors and propping up crumbling walls desperately, May wondered just how extensive the damage was.

"So," she said, finding that talking helped to neutralise the shaken feeling of being buried alive. "Do you need me to do anything, or can I...?"

Will stopped again and turned around, this time an actual bemused expression behind his glasses. "What? You outrank me, remember?"

Tipping her head cutely, May realised that she was the Elite Second. "Oh yeah." Spreading her stance and putting a fist on her hips, she took a commanding tone. "Righto then, you finish up here. I'm going to take a shower." Marching off, she could feel Will's amused eyes follow her. "And if you get any funny ideas, I'll have you scrubbing toilets for a week!"

It was good to hear Will laugh after so long.

-- --

After being introduced to Morty and getting cleaned up in 'Giovanni's' personal beach club, Gary and the others took Misty to meet up with Tracey and Snap. The watcher was overjoyed and particularly fascinated by the story of her escape, while the sniper, as expected, was indifferent to the red-head's existence. Mewtwo had Giovanni excuse himself back to his office, and Gary enthusiastically took Misty on a trip through Cinnabar Island's massive markets, where they laughed at Brock's dismal attempts to pick up the locals, and he and Brock laughed at her abysmal fashion sense.

The true nature of Team Rocket's leadership was avoided, about which those in the know were quite pleased. It was enough that they could return to their familiar little war – they didn't need the musings of the all-powerful to confuse things for them.

Watching the little excursion from along the rooftops of Cinnabar's city, invisible like a fly on the wall, was Bugsy. He watched with a sick smile on his dirty skin as his charge spent the night on the town with these strange men.

"Thought you could give me the slip for your little date?" Bugsy pretended to ask the runaway as he held onto a chimney pipe and lent over the edge. "Think I wouldn't come back to plague you, my dear?"

"I do not know what acts of lechery developed your stalking skills to this level," The sudden voice, from no discernable source, surprised Bugsy to the point that his hold almost slipped. He looked back over the roof to see a man in ninja garb and a short red cape perched on the roof edge right next to him. How had that man snuck up so close? "But I would rather remain ignorant."

"Don't scare me like that!" Bugsy exclaimed, recognising Koga, the one known as Leak, Venom-Blow, Drainer, Patient-Toxin – the Elite Third. The bug trainer looked back down to where the Champion's wife was stopping into a restaurant for dinner in the Sleepless City. "Do you know who these clowns are?"

"These are the upper echelons of Rebel leadership." Koga answered. Bugsy looked at the ninja wide-eyed, then back down to the party, who was ordering food.

A sordid smile returned to the bodyguard's face. "Fraternising with the enemy, Mrs Ketchum? You naughty girl..."

Koga, his daughter's death still fresh in his heart, was in no mood to tolerate the dirty innuendoes of this unranked trainer, but was forced to by necessity. Pointing with his head to the tall man to whom Misty was paying particular attention, Koga provided Bugsy with more information.

"That man is Gary Oak, who has caused us so much suffering recently."

Gagging with joy, Bugsy bounced excitedly in his spot. "Oh, no way! Gary Oak, the guy the Champion's totally gay for?" Laughing in short, hacking pieces, Bugsy slapped his thighs. "A love quadrangle, this is awesome!"

Koga stared at his dirty comrade in confusion. "Love _quadrangle_?"

Bugsy nodded with a grin. "Yep – They all love each other, but can barely control their lust after me!" He explained, tapping his chest with his thumb.

Forcing himself not to hit his irritating ally, Koga stood up and ignored his idiocy. "We need to report this to the Champion at once." The ninja said, pitching forward off the roof.

Waving an uncaring hand at the Elite Third's lack of play, Bugsy jumped up and danced a jig towards where Koga had dived from.

"This is going to be so much fun!" He told himself with giggles, following Koga over the edge.

-

-

**Author's Notes:**

Do you know why Lance's hair is black now?

Longest chapter yet – just over 20,000 words!

I think the Dragonites vs Ash's pokémon fights could have been better, but I was high on codeine and short on time. Plus they were just loose ends more than anything.

I was originally going to have Will truly happy to be number one (while still consciously oblivious to Karen's interference), but his motivations changed during the writing, and it no longer was right for the character. I like him this way, it's better than what I had in the notes.

Just so you know, I'm going away for like three weeks on Tuesday. I managed to get this done, but don't expect anything before next year. Happy Christmas and Merry New Year!

Please Read and Review!

**RedHeadtheGirl: **I think you raise a legitimate concern that I've been growing conscious of – that length will dilute the tale. I've been trying to pare back to the bare grit of it all, but thank you for the warning. Be assured though that we've long passed half-way – according to my notes, you can expect four more chapters (in their constituent parts) plus an epilogue.


	23. Home Again 2

**Disclaimer**: I still don't own Pokémon, because Nintendo and 4kids still do.

-

**Grasping the Moon**

Chapter 23 – Home Again

"You're lying!" Misty laughed and looked out to sea. "There's no way Ash was that strong back then!" She thought back with fondness to the days when Ash was an over-energetic shrimp.

Gary lifted up his hands, without an answer. "What can I say, we were perfectly matched." He said, speaking of the time he and Ash had fought over a pokéball fished from a river with just their rods. His half still fit in his pocket. "Except I was much more handsome, hey?"

Misty snorted with amusement, turning her large pretty eyes back. "As if!" She shot back, sticking out her tongue. Gary stuck his out right back.

Twisting around in the opening of their Magikarp submarine, Gary looked over the choppy waters forward to the shores near Pallet town – dark in the strange wig of smoke over the area. Apparently visibility was abysmal deeper in the water and the Team Rocket grunts had decided it was safer to travel surfaced. Of course, an impenetrable cloud of sea silt wasn't enough to force Tracey away from sketching out the window.

Wind airing his red-brown hair, Gary risked a look across at the girl squeezed next to him in the ship's narrow passage. Her orange hair was like a flame stolen from heaven, alight in the shadows, the sea breeze stroking a loving hand over her face. Seeing her in this fashion reminded him how dangerous this all was.

_Dangerous,_ He reflected, quickly setting his eyes forward in case Misty caught sight of his bare admiration. _This... _thing_ with Misty upsets the balance between me and Ash – that tenderly maintained battle. This isn't want I want._ His head sunk down. _Do I really know what I want?_

Closing his eyes, he pressed a hand over his face, trying to force his second thoughts into the distant hum at the back of his head. He wanted to settle into the smiling silence that was wrapping Misty and him together – he wanted there to be no thinking. No, thinking would not do – there was no need to try and address the giddy, world-twisting things that Mewtwo had told him on Cinnabar Island. _Just let the happiness drug you..._

A call over the wind brought up Gary's eyes, and Misty was waving to another sub that had drawn near. Peering, Oak saw that this particular member of the fleet was Brock's ship.

_I suppose that makes it the flagship_, Gary said to himself as he gave a succinct, manly wave.

As Brock's sub drew near, the olive man leaned over and shouted louder.

"It's a gas chamber down there!" He yelled. Obviously Snap was with him.

The other two laughed. Despite his complaints, Brock was in a happy enough mood – Giovanni/Mewtwo had given him a considerable discount with the implicit understanding that the pokémon's secret remain as such. Paying _less _money for a change was welcome to the Rock Master.

"So, are we going to be landing under fire?" Gary asked, sticking his thumb towards the approaching shore. If he looked, he could see a red glow.

Brock wore a hesitant look and slowly shook his head. "Well, we won't be under fire, no... but prepare yourself. It's bad up there."

Gary's good mood popped. There was something wrong with his home? Misty gave the tall man a concerned look and shared eyes with Brock over the sea. The Pallet trainer looked up at the bleak vision ahead of them. _Gramps?_

-- --

Ash was feeling better in the morning. 'Look to the future' he always told himself, 'the past has already gone by'. His father's abandonment, his father's League, and even his father's death – they were all in the past now. There were much brighter things waiting in the future.

Chief among them, glimmering like the moon among a starry sky of great things yet to come, was Gary's imminent arrival. Already Oak had defeated a great part of the 'pokémon' at Ash's disposal – and he was coming here, to Indigo City, where two of them could at last have their rematch. Ash's skin tingled at the thought.

The promise of the pleasure drove him to action – he needed to train, he needed to sharpen his already razor-like skills. To this end he had dragged May and Will out of their respective holes in order to have them assist in his exercises. Neither of them was up to duelling him directly, not at the level he intended to be working at, but they could lend a hand.

He dragged them down in Indigo's underground stadium where he had prepared a series of ridiculous challenges for his pokémon to complete.

May was getting a bit sick of it all. _Once again,_ she ranted to herself. _Once again, the only thing that can drive Ash to spend time with me is the thought of deadly combat._ Hefting the machine gun and bolting it into its stand on the jeep, she turned and nodded to Blaizeken. The fiery bird giant nodded seriously back at her, aware of his role. Around the large pokémon's feet Skitty circled dizzily, appearing useless as always. Brushing her bangs from her eyes, May shifted her attention, knowing the cat would join in when things got going.

In front of the military vehicle at a distance of twenty yards, nestled in the trimmed grass was something like a flower-shelled tortoise. Shifting his stubby green feet, Ivysaur readied himself for his training exercise, his large but intense eyes narrowing at May's anti-personnel weapon.

"Ivy-_saur_!" The reptile announced, signalling for his master's friend to start.

"Alright," May said dutifully, sighing. "Let her rip."

She pulled back on the trigger tighter than necessary, letting the shuddering weapon absorb some of her frustrations. Next to her, Blaizeken tossed several balls of fire, commencing a combo of embers, flamethrowers and fire-blasts. Skitty stopped her brainless lingering and stared up at her 'big brother'. Fascinated, she began to mimic the larger pokémon, vomiting flames out of her mouth.

Ivysaur, the target, bounced effectively, if not elegantly, around the barrage of fire attacks, occasionally using a vine appendage to shove himself in another direction. May artfully kept the barrel of her gun straight over the pokémon, but Ash's foremost grass-type was whipping his vines precisely, deflecting the bullets mid-air with blinding speed, even as he dodged incoming fire. The ricochets chiselled into the stadium's concrete walls and up into the stands, shattering the occasional plastic seat.

Suddenly, a burst of white light ignited off Ivysaur's flank. Will appeared, a wave of psychic energy at the ready.

"Psybeam!" Will cried, launching the attack. Reacting quickly to this attack from an unexpected direction, Ivysaur swung the leaves on his back, swinging forth a barrage of razor sharp leaves. He had aimed the counter-attack perfectly, even while dodging and deflecting attacks from the front, the leaves detonating the psychic force pre-maturely.

Will teleported, attempting similar attacks from odd directions a few more times. Ivysaur was no less deft in overcoming the obstacles, escaping without harm. His vines churning the air with blinding speed, the grass-type continued to slap aside bullets.

Irrationally irritated at not hitting the small pokémon, May grit her teeth and focussed harder on hitting her target. Her belt of ammunition was quickly being slurped up.

Her rage was cut away suddenly when Ivysaur screwed up – he slapped a bullet successfully, but in the intensity of the moment failed to direct it properly, sending the hot lead careening back towards May at murderous speed. Blaizeken and Skitty froze in horror as May flew from the gun and over the back of her vehicle.

"SAAAUR!" Ivysaur cried, guilt and fear puncturing his chest. The small pokémon dashed forward in time to join May's two pokémon as they clambered to see if they could save their master. Will teleported inside the car.

She was half-inside the jeep, head first in the grass. Nobody saw any blood, and when the beautiful trainer groaned in light pain, a feeling of collective relief blew the fear from everyone's backs.

"May, are you alright?" Ash yelled urgently, having stopped punching a wall. Next to the Champion a bright ball of light died down, revealing a cross-legged Pikachu, who had been in meditation - levitating himself by accumulating static or something. The rat's ears twitched in trepidation.

"I'm fine." May forced out thickly, her throat pressed. _Great, all I need to get his attention is a bullet in the face._ The smell of smoking lead was still in her nostrils, the shot missing by an indescribably small margin.

A green blush flooded Ivysaur's face. "Ivy, saur..." the pokémon apologised, extending his vines to help Will pull May upright again.

Ash, who hadn't heard May's soft reply, sprinted up, Pikachu inches behind his sneakers. For some reason, when he saw her keel over, his father's decapitated face flashed to mind. He slowed with lightness, though, when he saw her moving normally atop the jeep. As he approached, May further slowed the Great Kanto Trainer's steps with a dense glare.

"Um..." he said, rubbing the back of his head and averting his eyes. Ash didn't need to hear the Elite Second's explanation to understand the look. "I guess we didn't think that one through..."

Flexing her folded arms, May leant over Ash's head to yell. "You certainly didn't!" She screamed. Will scratched his temple while taking May's shoulder reassuringly. She pulled free to shove a finger in the object of her obsession's face. "I could've been killed!"

Ash lifted his hands and tried his grin. Handsome as it was, it wasn't enough to calm May's offended sense of self-preservation. Pikachu disappeared from behind Ash's feet, abandoning his master in his time of need.

May was about to continue unloading on Ketchum – perhaps throwing in some complaints at the lack of quality time Ash was giving her ever since this 'Gary Oak' rolled into town – when she noticed something very wrong with the picture. Already on edge from almost having her brains sitting next to her in the jeep, she immediately thought of assassins, grabbing for the machine gun and staring up into the grandstands.

The other two trainers also noticed their hidden visitors, but Will stopped May with his hand, firmer this time. Two figures leapt out from behind the seats and jumped down the concrete wall to the grass below.

"Koga," Ash said, suddenly business-like. May noticed that he was a bit angry. "Didn't I tell you to watch Gary?" His eye rose to drill the other man. "And shouldn't _you_ be watching Misty?"

The ninja trainer approached bowing, the bug trainer Bugsy trailing behind casually, his attention snapping to May's chest. She crossed her arms with a shiver, but the sick little man's eyes just descended to her legs.

"Sir." Koga said, bowing even lower. "We have important news." There was an expectant pause. "We were following your wife."

Ash's fist hardened at Venom-Blow's words, drawing Will and May's silent attention. "And why were you with her and not Gary?" The Champion said, becoming strangely furious.

"My lord," The Elite Third said, looking up from below his brow with a black glint. Will could feel his malicious intent. "Your wife was with Gary Oak."

May's heart leapt for joy – at last, proof of what she had suspected all along. Will and her eyes met, and his expression revealed that the psychic thought similarly. Pikachu leapt up onto the jeep, shock on his chubby features as an ear dangled weakly. Ivysaur shuffled closer to his master's feet, looking up in fear.

Koga straightened and continued the onslaught. "She was and is with him – him and all the key leaders of the Rebellion."

All eyes were now on the Chosen One's face, save Bugsy's, whose only true interest was of a much baser nature. The Great Kanto Trainer had completely shut down, an absent look on his face, as though his spirit had fled the premises. Tension pulled the moment longer as all waited to see how Ketchum would react.

Slowly, his animating force returned, creeping back into control. His brows drew together, his arms bent, and his back pressed him into a hunch.

"You're lying." He growled.

Her near-death experience completely forgotten, May shared another look with Will. The shoe fit the girl too well for her not to be Cinderella – Surely Koga's report was no lie. But would they have the courage to stand up to Ash as he was?

Koga was impassive as his lord advanced on him. "My lord, this is..."

"Shut up!" Ash shouted. Pikachu, his beliefs invested in his master over the word of another underling, cried out his support and jumped down to the short grass. Ivysaur, to whom loyalty was more important that truth, stood steadfastly next to his electric comrade.

"You are a liar!" Ash continued. "Your grief is no excuse!" Koga shifted his feet angrily, offended that his report – founded on strict professionalism – was questioned. The Champion waved his hand and Ivysaur immediately caught the signal. Streams of vine shot from beneath his branches, puncturing the swift ninja before he could even react.

Bugsy dove out of the way and Koga soared by, pinned to the shattering concrete of the stadium walls. Blood exploded from the ninja's mouth, but he couldn't cry out, his throat choked with the red. The Bug Master stared up at his new ally as he squirmed briefly but soon went still.

The sound of shoes shushing the grass approached his head, and Bugsy looked up in fresh terror at the Champion standing over him. Ivysaur withdrew his vines, letting Koga fall to the ground and die. May and Will stood by, knowing to keep their peace.

"I don't suppose you have any lies to pour out to me as well, do you?" Ash asked in a dark tone.

Eyes quickly flicking to the grassy turtle watching dutifully, Bugsy shook his head in open cowardice. If the Champion wasn't going to believe the Elite Third, why would he listen to a grimy thug like Bugsy? He needed to hear it from someone he would be forced to trust – a witness. But who?

Satisfied that the insect wouldn't also say those torturous words. Ash spun on the spot. He was aware of his friend's stares. "She's my wife." He said.

Storming off to the exit, an oppressive silence reigned. Even Ash's pokémon stayed behind to watch him leave.

Reaching the passage out, the Champion froze and spun suddenly. Yelling with such force that he bent over, he barraged the full volume of the stadium with his voice.

"She's my WIFE!"

-- --

Misty, Brock and Tracey couldn't bear to keep their eyes on Gary as he stared blankly down into the small valley. Brock busied himself with organising the movement of troops around the abomination before them as the last of the Resistance disembarked Team Rocket's boats, but the others had no excuse and could only stand. Eevee was between his master's feet, his canine expression a mirroring Gary's.

Pallet had become the Pit. The town was like some hellish rune etched into the ground with a giant stick, glowing from deep within with a red light, the lantern of hell. Forged into the ground itself, Pallet had been perverted into some bizarre factory, belching different coloured smokes that muddied themselves into a sick black smoke that stained the sky.

Sulfur was in the air and the ground was black with oil spills. The once picturesque nowhere town's greens and blues had been painted over with yellow, brown and red. It seemed only a little while ago the people here had thrown a massive party for him and Ash...

Gary's eyes could barely focus on anything. There seemed to no product from this... monstrosity. Various conveyor belts, holding pens, vats and other factory-works were haphazardly inserted all over the place, like there was no connection between each random piece. Strange things – somewhere between robots and pokémon – were wheeled out on conveyor belts, often directly into trash pits to be crushed and recycled into new items ultimately doomed to the same fate, _ad nauseum_.

"What..." Gary uttered, unsure what to say. There were things – fleshly things, but not natural – flying through the smoke, between the smoke towers and lights, like cockroaches. This was his home. "...happened?"

"Ee!" His pokémon cried out, pointing with a paw. Gary dragged his eyes over to see another absurdity – a house in an overgrown garden overlooking the boil beneath. It was pleasant and light, an idyllic cottage choked by sickened soil and dying trees. A shadow nested over the building though; it seemed haunted.

A blink later and Gary recognised it – it was Ash's house, alone in the desecration. Everything else had been fed to the mechanical monster below.

Misty took a bold step forward and put a hand on Gary's shoulder, partially for comfort and partially to restrain him from anything too rash. She still couldn't meet his eyes.

"Gary, I..." The water trainer said, but couldn't complete the sentence.

Staring at her beautiful pale hand on his shoulder, Gary could literally feel the pleasure follow the veins from her palm down to his shimmering heart and from there to the rest of his body. But still...

He gently pulled free and turned to the others, Eevee stepping forward with him. Brock made sure his attention was on the men, leaving only Tracey empty-handed. Taking a breath for courage, the artist started the explanation.

"Early on, the League started putting energy into making Pallet into a sort of scientific capital." Sketchit said. There were no guesses as to why, and Gary tensed visibly. Eevee could feel the force of his master's emotion, bowing his head. "Somehow it... turned into this."

"Disgusting isn't it?" Morty's voice rolled in casually, not yet having picked up on the heavy atmosphere. Following the Gym-Leader was Snap, rifle ever at his shoulder and cigarette in mouth.

"Hey," the sniper asked with a smile, aiming with his gun. "Five thousand says I can hit one of the flying ones."

Waving for them to stop their banter, Misty shouldn't have bothered – Gary was ignoring them. The ex-Champion had imprisoned Tracey with a glare. "Where's Gramps?" He said lowly.

Tracey squirmed. Brock looked over his shoulder with his narrow eyes.

"Morty, Snap, you guys go ahead to the house, I'll catch up." He ordered quickly. As the two exchanged an ignorant glance and moved on, Gary decided his old friend Tracey had taken too long to answer. Shooting forward, he grabbed the chubby Watcher by the shirt and hoisted him off the ground. Shoving his teeth in his friend's face, Gary growled.

"Where is my grandfather!?" He roared. Misty was quick, pulling on Gary's arm, but the tall man's hold was immovable. The rank and file of the Resistance watched silently as they passed, still unsure about this unstable weapon of theirs.

It was Brock who unhooked Tracey like a coat from a peg. Setting the Watcher on the ground, the Rock Master addressed Oak.

"The Professor's in there somewhere." The solid man explained. Next to him, Tracey rubbed at his pants harshly, his expression exhibiting similar concern to Gary's.

"Then we save him." Gary stated.

Misty flinched. "Gary..."

"No we're not." Brock retorted, putting his foot down. His face was inscrutable. "We can't waste time or men on it."

Gary's mind worked fast. "This is a tech pit, right? They might be storing a weapon here or something."

"Pallet is useless to the League except for the occasional surprise from out of left field." Brock responded, turning Gary's mind to the power collectors on Mount Moon. "We've got other fish to skewer."

Having enough of talk, Gary lashed out and struck Brock in the throat with such ferocity that even Eevee jumped. Amazingly, Stone-Baron didn't even budge.

Storming off, Gary left the others, clicking his fingers for Eevee to follow. Misty started to pursue him but Brock held her back.

"Don't." He said in a strangely compressed voice. "Let him go." The orange-haired woman stared at Brock's odd speech, and even Tracey looked up. She couldn't bring herself to smile as her dark-skinned friend rubbed at his neck. "Jeez, that guy can throw a punch..."

-- --

Things were worse up close. Sickening details showed up in the structure – at points it was glowing alien machinery, at others twitching flesh, and there was no clear distinction between any of it. This... laboratory itself was indistinct from the ground, like circuits and roots had knotted beneath the surface of the soil.

Eevee hesitated at the threshold of Pallet's open-air labyrinth. The ground was slick with biological material, dumped pointlessly, and his fine canine nose was stumped by the swirled palette smells. An outhouse, a garbage dump and a factory blurred into one – that was the stench of the place.

The pokémon flinched as Gary strode boldly into disorienting chaos.

"Ee!" He called after his master, but the trainer ignored him. Realising that there was no way he could simply let Gary barge in alone, Eevee bowed his head and steeled himself. With a defiant nod, the dog leapt over the invisible border and after his trainer.

Coming to Gary's side, the pokémon slowed down again, and as he did, the fear climbed back over his shoulders. Oak kept forward without any seeming concern, but Eevee looked around. Didn't Gary feel it? The slimy feel of eyes upon them?

It wasn't just the things that felt like eyes – the cameras and half-formed beasts lurking in every corner. It was the walls themselves, the patches of gunk on the ground – this whole wart on the earth's surface felt like one massive body, whose entire focus had craned onto the invading bacteria. Eevee's skin rolled beneath his fur.

Pallet's thick fumes blocked out the sun creating an eternal twilight, never quite day or night. It was Saffron all over again. Shadows draped every corner.

Shivering in one such patch of darkness, Eevee spied something like a Beedrill, save with strange girders protruding from its body and the wings of a Butterfree. Even as the dog watched, a mechanical arm grabbed the Frankenstein creation and feed it struggling into a burning mouth.

_This is not science..._ Eevee thought to himself as he witnessed this act of Pallet consuming itself. _This isn't even science without limits – this is wrong_.

"My sense of direction is the best." Gary stated out of the blue. "I'm pretty sure Gramps' lab is nearby."

Eevee's eyebrows pinched in pain for Gary. Looking around, the dog couldn't believe that there was any line or trace of the old – no, the real Pallet left.

Suddenly the ground shook, rippling puddles of slosh. Tense for action, Gary and Eevee watched as a wall right near them began to buckle. Unsure if this was some sort of defence system or another example of Pallet's self-cannibalisation, they hesitated.

In the wall was a Miltank, built into the structure as a body. The cow struggled pitifully against her chains, moaning desperately at the two visitors to Misrule. Gary and Eevee stared.

The thunderous smash returned, tearing the wall like muscle, the huge form of a mighty Tauros charging through. The Miltank was thrown to the ground and trampled, finally free. The rampaging pokémon's muscles were swollen with drugs and large portions of the bull's face and back were now motorised.

The over-sized cyborg barrelled towards Gary, who slipped passed its steel horns with the grace of a bull-fighter. As he stepped aside, the warrior lashed out with his sword, slicing across the Tauros' sinuous side. But where another pokémon would have stumbled, the monstrosity didn't seem to feel pain, turning for another deadly charge.

Gary had his AK-47 up in less than a second, firing and tearing off all the flesh from Tauros' brawny shoulder. Physically this should have made it impossible for the bull to advance, but the pokémon's bones had been reinforced with some sort of hydraulics.

"Damn!" Gary growled, stepping back to receive the bull's rush. Something small and brown shot beneath his arm, rocketing into the charging Tauros.

Eevee met the bull's metal skull with a world-shattering head butt. The Tauros' face remained intact, but the force of its huge momentum compressed its spine several inches.

The deactivated assailant's useless body collapsing to the ground before the unharmed Eevee, the puppy shook the shock from his mind. Gary approached to investigate, long used to the sight of his tiny Eevee bringing down much larger, heavier opponents in feats of strength. Gary looked over the modified Tauros with a critical eye.

"I recognise this Tauros..." Gary announced, rubbing his chin. He knew pokémon in and out, and would recognise one of these anywhere, even if its whole body was rebuilt. "This is one of Ash's. But then..."

Gary's sequence of reasoning was brutally interrupted by the entrance of several more of Ash's Tauros – goring their way through the flesh and steel of Pallet's walls. Eevee's gut reaction was to vomit a shadow ball from behind his teeth, boring into the rearing chest of the nearest Tauros. The others, foam seeping though their steel faces, were berserk in rage and didn't even register their fallen comrades.

Knowing the limits of his own weapons, Gary set them in their places and waited to take the charge. Stepping to the side of a first cyborg Tauros, he swung onto the pokémon's back. Ignoring the smell of its unwashed hide, Gary grabbed one of the bull's two horns and pulled

Roaring at its sudden loss of control, the Tauros was guided into the horns of one of its comrades. As soon as his ride's neck was pierced, Gary rolled off with haste. That probably wouldn't have been enough to kill the monstrosity, but that wasn't the point right now – there were other things to pursue.

"Eevee!" Gary called as his shoes hit the floor. "We're going!"

His master sprinting on without looking back, Eevee had to extricate himself quickly. Dodging the rain of iron hooves striking the squishy ground, the dog futilely sought an opening through the cluttering bodies of the over-drugged Tauros. Seeing no hole in the canopy of bombing meat and metal, the puppy coiled up and threw himself into the under-thigh of the bull above him.

Surprised by the force of the blow, the Tauros stumbled, giving Eevee all the opportunity to use his agility to streak out of the stampede. Drifting up into the air, Eevee pointed himself into a sharp dive. Wind whistling in his pointed ears, the cute little pokémon pounded the ground with earth-quake-like force, shaking the footing of the herd.

While the bulls were busy trying to force the mental clarity required to stand, Eevee was already catching up with his master as they plunged deeper into Pallet.

"Ee..." the dog muttered, but Gary ignored him. The ground started shaking, and the dog looked back. The Tauros hadn't given up yet, charging in an invincible hoard, tearing down the assembly lines and squishing the half-built denizens of their own home, mad with violence-lust. "Eevee! Eeeee!"

"I know!" Gary responded through his teeth, pressing his run into something harder. They tried hard to shake the pursuit, leaping over obstacles, ducking around corners, and even slipping into the various flesh-forges, but the Tauros stampede was unrelenting.

The cyborgs were hardly slowed in the wanton destruction. Their trail of debris was consumed almost immediately by small robots and living experiments to rebuild it into more meaningless construction. The body of Pallet felt no wound that was not mutated shut immediately.

Pushing ever forward, Gary and Eevee managed to stay ahead of the snorting, pounding herd. His internal compass ringing at him, Gary snatched up Eevee by his collar of fur and as the dog yelped in surprise, he jumped suddenly into an opening.

Carrying the wide-eyed pup inside a heavy-roofed hall full of mechanical hammers beating each other into shape, Gary put distance between them and the entrance. Spinning suddenly on the ball of his foot he faced the way in, even as the first of Ash's misshapen Tauros scurried in after them.

Pointing above their pursers, Gary shouted. "Hyper-beam!"

Still hanging from his master's hand, Eevee answered without question, firing a blast of energy as Gary indicated, shattering the thick roof. The structure folded and fell upon the Tauros horde. As the thickly muscled pokémon were buried, the thick rubble prevented the others from barging through.

Eevee shot too well however, and the building continued to cave, forcing he and his trainer back further into the building. Gary to finally let his pokémon go and the pair of them ran for the next segment, leaving the machine-tools inside to be swallowed up.

They escaped into the next floor just as the roof sealed them within it. Gasping up breath from all his running, Gary leant against the heavy frame while Eevee, who had much more stamina, scurried about looking for an exit.

"Ee!" The dog prodded, calling for Oak to assist. When his trainer didn't respond, the pokémon looked back to see him relaxing a bit.

"No need for that, Eevee." He said with a weak smile. "We're here – Gramps' mansion."

_You wouldn't think it..._ the dog thought, looking around the new hall they'd found themselves in. Instead of Professor Oak's antique lamps and overhead lighting, this hall was illuminated by large tanks of green fluid, lit from below. These tanks – rows of them – where rigged with pink lungs that tensed and released, blowing bubbles of oxygen through the goop.

It was cool in here, and Gary quickly recovered. Standing up, he proceeded down the array of tanks, Eevee by his shins. Even here Pallet's _non-sequitor_ design was evident – the pattern of tanks would shift erratically, sprays of welding fire would hiss from the wall, and hydraulics would lift nothing into the air and down again like some endless exercise routine.

"This goes on forever..." Gary commented, suspecting that it may even cover a good portion of his grandfather's old property.

Things started to appear in the tanks. Pokémon and people, suspended in the green goo – sometimes intact, sometimes dissected. Then there were pokémon of types that Gary had never seen before – which was saying something – appearing as stitched-together creations of Frankenstein.

Soon they came to the Eevees – Eevees of every age, and their evolutions too. Vaporeons, Flareons... they were all represented in abundance.

Then the Eevee evolutions that didn't exist. Forced into strange new shapes by carefully controlled radiation, these unseen pokémon floated unmoving in their tanks, like statues over tombs. Here was one with a hard stone brow and rock projections down its spine, there another with long drifting locks that was transparent, half within this world and half in another.

Eevee's head drooped and his fluffy tail slowly drew under his body. All at once the small dog clambered up Gary's purple pants and onto his trainer's shoulder. But Gary wouldn't have it – he took his loyal pokémon from his perch into his arms, covering the small dog's eyes from what he may have been.

"Here." Gary said in a low voice as they came to an end to the freak show. There was a stairway – the height of each step varying sporadically. Eevee jumped from his master's hands and onto the stairs, scurrying up without looking back. Gary quickly followed.

The stairs didn't stay straight or level, but continued upwards and ended in a small dark room. The greater bulk of this chamber was a large block of mainframes that peaked up at the top, which faced a large screen that covered the whole room and sprayed blue light over the room's shapes. Information, video feeds and calculations flickered over this monitor with such speed that it was impossible for a human mind to understand what was happening, but Gary could got the impression that it related to Pallet's ever-shifting face.

In the blue light, as it lay over the peak of the computer mainframes, Gary saw something that made his heart-freeze – a human face. Shooting forward to the base of the structure, Gary scrambled up, observing as he ascended that it was more like a throne than a computer bank. Wires and tubes ran into the seated figure's frame, pumping in nutrients and information.

"Vee!" Eevee cried after his master and pursued him up the hill. Gary wasn't listening, staring at the steel frame that bound the person into his seat. The man's withered fingers were reinforced with large mechanical attachments, causing the hands digits to skitter over input pads with inhuman speed. This man, or maybe the machine about the man, was controlling all of Pallet.

Eevee arrived at Gary's side, on the large arms of the dialysis-throne. The man didn't notice them, and just stared blankly forward at the screen. If not for the very occasional blink, one would not think the ancient man alive.

Licking his maw nervously, Eevee recognised the man's face, even in the blue and crowned with cables. The dog looked up to see Gary's reaction. He himself was staring, his hands hovering toward the soft, drooping face, but too scared to touch. Gary was stunned by every small detail; squarish, knowing eyes, the straight, cutting nose, and the chin flat like it had been hammered from below. It was his grandfather, Professor Oak.

-- --

Morty looked over as Brock approached. The large man looked overworked, rolling his neck and constantly glancing back to make sure his army hadn't decided to disappear into Viridian Forest without asking. Even with Tracey in charge, he couldn't be sure. The ghost trainer smirked to think of it – the fresh rookies he'd been forced to stay with were particularly averse to taking orders.

Brock approached him and Morty stood up from the grass, abandoning his view of Pallet's horrors. Snap, who was sitting nearby, had been as conversational as a brick with a gun, so the Ecruteak Gym-Leader was desperate for talk, even orders. He tried to wipe the black grass from the seat of his pants, but there was going to be a stain.

"You're right about this place." He said to the Rock Master, a conceding look in his lazy eyes. "It's a total mess – no one could rely on this as a production base. It's no use to the League."

Rocking his head in consideration, Brock spared a moment out of his busy schedule to glance over the chewing mechanics and squealing bodies below. He shook his head in disgust. "The place still freaks me out. We'll come back and clean up after we finish with... I mean, finish at the Plateau."

"So, are we waiting for Oak to come out before we march?" The blonde asked, though he was startled when Snap snorted.

The sniper remained silent, and Brock answered the question. "Probably not–" he started, but a woman interrupted.

"Do we want to do that?" Misty said, coming up behind her old friend. "Gary's our best hope overcoming Ash."

Brock winced at the name, while Morty smirked politely at her transparent excuse. Snap jumped to his feet.

"Ha, as if he is!" The sniper declared, brandishing his precious weapon. Exposing the deep pit of the rifle's barrel to Misty's face, he grinned. "_This_ is the best hope, the empty hope."

Misty didn't flinch from the gun, but Brock picked its barrel up between his fingers and moved it away, uncomfortable with the weapon pointing at his friend.

"Let's not get into that now." Brock said, desiring to minimise his stress. "Right now we've got one more–"

Once more the Resistance leader was cut off, this time by the sound of gunfire. Misty and Snap instinctively ducked, but Morty and Brock turned to seek its source.

The men posted around the odd house had opened fire. Eyes wide in fear and rage, Brock barrelled forward shouting. Misty was trailing him as soon as she saw what was happening.

As they arrived, one of the Resistance trainers was ordering her Growlithe to pour fire on the building. "Stop that!" Brock roared, stunning the troops. Their normally maternal leader actually looked threatening for once.

"Stop it!" Brock repeated, pulling down the arm of the offending trainer and pushing her pokémon back. The trainer – Captain Jenny – was particularly surprised at the rough treatment, since Brock only every interacted with her among drooling come-ons. "What the hell are you doing?"

Suddenly taken back to the academy, Jenny snapped to attention. "Sir!" She reported in a hurry. "The building is surrounded by some sort of field; presumably a pokémon's reflect ability! We were trying to break through!"

"Nobody ordered you do anything, Captain." Brock growled while Misty passed behind him to try and see if anyone inside was hurt. As soon as she reached the gate, she bounced off a purple glare, hitting the dirt embarrassingly.

Jenny moved quickly to help up the Water Trainer, taking her for a superior officer. Brock took a deep breath to get himself back under control.

"I'll take care of this." He announced, stepping up to the gate that had repelled Misty. As an afterthought, he turned and pointed a finger. "Nobody shoots!"

The Resistance troops nodded in fear. They collectively wondered if their seemingly invulnerable leader would attempt to force his way in by strength alone. Brock faced the house again and took another steadying breath.

Up close, it was clear that the home wasn't as picturesque as it first appeared. The lawn was overgrown, like a Tangela's hair, and paint was peeling from the wood. All the curtains were drawn.

Sighing, Stone-Baron raised a tanned hand. Gently he set it forward until it came into contact with the invisible wall.

Brock was no psychic, but he could feel in the wall a defensive, desperate fear, as well as a claustrophobic neurosis. It was disquietening, broken, and Brock was tempted to pull away. He raised his other hand and rested his head against the purple sheen.

"Hey." He whispered, closing his eyes. "Remember when we used to fight over doing the chores? It's me."

Nothing seemed to change. The troops behind Brock shuffled uncomfortably, but Crumble-Heart stayed where he was. Misty's aqua eyes shimmered as she watched her friend expose his heart through the psychic projection.

Then, through the tips of his calloused fingers, Brock felt the field waver. The reflect field deflated in a hauntingly lonely fashion. The way forward was clear – nothing blocked the white stone path through the long grass to the front door. Turning around, Crumble-Heart waved Misty over to join him.

She left Jenny and the others. As the Water and Rock Masters strode down the path side by side, Misty was struck by a severe case of déjà-vu. It grew particularly keen when they stood in front of the door. Looking at her shoes, she was glad it was Brock and not Gary next to her right now – the parallels would kill her.

Brock pressed the doorbell. A shrill voice cut through the wood.

"Oh my, company!" Misty's mother-in-law said aloud. "I'm coming!"

Misty looked up to see Brock steel himself. He would need to.

With a creak, the door swung open. There was Deliah, her hair at mad angles and surprise on her face. Mr Mime, who knew exactly what was going on, stood with a low expression. She looked from Misty to Brock with open eyes creasing her wrinkles.

"Oh dear, what's this?" She looked up at Brock's hard features. Her state made the large man tighten. "Brock! It's been so long!"

"Hi Mum." The ex-Cerulean Gym-Leader said, the term still awkward on her tongue.

"Oh, look at me! Leaving you too out here in the cold!" The older lady said, grabbing at their arms in hostly fashion. "Come in, come–"

"We're here to take you away, Mrs Ketchum." Brock said bluntly, his words bared by the sight of her obvious delusions. He swallowed hard. "It's okay, Mrs Ketchum."

A great still struck between them all. No one moved from the doorway. Deliah glanced without comprehension from the faces of both her guests. Watching her mother-in-law lick her cracked lips, Misty could see that the concept was slowly seeping into her mind.

"L-" the older lady started. "Leave?"

Misty nodded, trying to keep the tears out of her eyes. Deliah looked down to Mr Mime, who nodded. Looking lost, she glanced back into her home, the short wooden hall.

"Leave?" She asked again. Something fell over her eyes and she shook the thoughts off. "Oh no, I can't leave, I've still got to-"

Mr Mime grabbed her dress and the mad excuse dried up on her tongue. Deliah blinked, and then began to hyperventilate uncontrollably.

"Leave?" She repeated in a low voice between gasps. She leant against the doorframe, and Brock put a hand against her back, trying to help. Deliah put up her hand to indicate she was okay, and brought her lungs back under control again.

She stood up boldly and her two rescuers stepped to either side. She looked out into the world, taking in everything – the condition of her lawn, the smoke and evil of Pallet. Looking to Misty for support, the younger lady nodded.

Deliah stared at the step over the threshold. Her foot had not set there in more years than she had counted. It seemed impossible, far away – would the world shatter like glass if her foot touched that spot on the ground?

She stretched out her foot to take the step, but quickly it retreated back into safety. Closing her eyes, Deliah was quick to try again. Shaking as she shifted her weight forward, the older lady stretched out her arms, which Brock and Misty caught. Supporting the important woman forward, she put her toes to the stone path.

The world didn't crack. No disaster struck – but she was outside. She was free. Deliah's eyes stayed closed and her face remained the same, but tears were pouring down. As she took another slow step forward, and another, she left the arms of her helpers and Misty couldn't keep back a tear of joy or two of her own. Jenny and the troops stared at the strange spectacle.

Hungry for more movement, Deliah stepped too quickly and lost her balance like a seaman on solid land again. Brock and Misty moved to catch her, but Mr Mime surprised them by shooting out the door and grabbing his fellow prisoner first. The other two humans kneeled down and hugged the lady and her pokémon. Deliah's lip was now quivering.

"It's okay, we've got you." Misty said, drying her eyes on Deliah's blouse. "We've got you."

-- --

Gary had sunk down to the base of his grandfather's life-support seat, a dark depression gripping him. Eevee was curled up in the nook of the Professor's ever-typing arms, in feint hope the kindly old man would one more time scratch his brown fur in that gentle way. Indeed, it seemed as though the man had 'scratched' everyone he knew in some way or another – bringing a quaint pleasantness to their lives that quietened the soul deep down.

Tugging at his spiked hair in distress, Gary would glance back up at Oak's screen-lit face. His lightning-fast typing was the only sound. The older man would never look away from the screen, even when hands were waved in front of his face. He saw nothing – perhaps his brain was plugged directly into Pallet?

Looking back into his palms, Gary buried his own vision. Nothing had come to stop them yet – Pallet didn't seem to have a uniform security system. They were alone in this sparse room, separated far away from the surrounding madness, and the war beyond that, and the tumbling history of humanity beyond that, and that distant hope for happiness beyond that. Locked away like a worn out tool – is this what it was like in a nursing home?

"I'm sorry." Gary's voice was muffled by his hands. His grandfather couldn't hear him. "I wasn't a very good grandson, hey?" The ex-Champion dropped his head back and hit it against the machine that kept Oak's body functioning.

He had loved his grandfather, but he had never treated him well – he'd never treated anyone well, had he? – always trying to do his own thing without listening to Gramps' store of advice. It was the oldest Oak who had inspired Gary to be a researcher, it was him who had given Gary the affection his parents had deemed themselves too busy to give. Hell, it was his grandfather who had sparked the jealousy of Ash Ketchum that had got Gary this far...

"Heh," Gary laughed sadly. _Jealousy... is that what this all is?_ "Ash would have made a better grandson."

The tall man stood up and turned to the machine-seat, staring up and thinking of his rival. Ash would have aced the challenge of being a good grandkid. At the least, he would have trashed the competition – a son who was too busy making money to remember he had a family, a granddaughter too trapped in the role of surrogate parent to spare the time, and a grandson who was too caught up in his pride and obsessions to notice his Gramps breaking down.

Climbing the device again, this time more reflectively, Gary came up to Eevee's level. The dog remained as he was, trying to feel the shadow of the man's large tired hand petting him lovingly.

Staring at his grandfather, Gary's face felt as aged and hanging as the older man's was.

"You always liked Ash better, hey." He said without emotion, taking in anew the Professor's situation. How could the 'Great Kanto Trainer' allow things to get this far? Or maybe it was Professor Oak himself who did this – alone with no family, no pupil, left with only work, he let that work consume him?

Gary's broad shoulders drooped. It was impossible to say now – and for some reason it didn't seem to matter.

Leaning forward, Gary took advantage of the complete isolation to put his lips on his Gramps' cheek in a positively unmanly display. Underneath the kiss, Professor Oak's skin felt soft and frail like cobwebs. Eevee stayed rolled up, pretending not to see.

"Thanks." Gary whispered against the light skin of his only family left. "Sorry."

Turning his body, Gary shifted position, pushing Eevee gently to feet. Taking his grandfather's dancing fingers in his own; the tall young man gently pulled them from the inputs. There was no resistance.

When the way was cleared, Gary put his own hands to the task and reprogrammed Pallet.

-- --

"Is this it?" The gruff Celadon Ranger asked, presenting a baby blue travel bag. Deliah put on as earnest and appreciative a face as she could.

"Oh, it is! Thank you so much!" She said.

The Ranger didn't respond and set the case on the sick grass in front of her. His cargo offloaded, he immediately walked off with his Chikorita.

Grimacing, Deliah pulled the blanket around her shoulders tightly. Brock had dropped it on her shoulders as she cleaned herself up and progressed further outside. All the various people of this... Rebellion? Resistance? were looking at her with dark eyes. Taking in the various looks of disapproval, she leaned her head to the dark-skinned man next to her.

"Perhaps I should gather my own belongs..." She suggested, looking at the line of people and pokémon collecting her essential items from inside her old home.

"Absolutely not!" Brock declared, sweeping his hands in front of him in emphatic refusal. "I'm not letting you back in there!"

Deliah couldn't argue with that – even amid all this low-key hostility and presented with the chaos of Pallet proper, she didn't regret leaving. Besides, she had a pair of stalwart defenders in Brock and Mr Mime.

The clown dwarf had brought his broom, wielding it like a pike and standing pinned to his master's side. He kept ever-alert eyes in every direction, not willing to risk anyone hurting the dear old lady. She giggled at the sight.

"I think Mrs Ketchum was concerned about the troops." Morty added, proving his skills of perception. He had received the Champion's mother with kindness, and Deliah thought the young blonde rather dashing. "They seem to distrust her."

Pulling the blanket over herself from a sudden chill, she looked to Brock. It was only the four of them – Tracey was sulking and Snap was doing his apathy thing. "Is it because of..." She couldn't continue. Brock put a calming hand on her shoulder.

Misty emerged from the old Ketchum residence with bag clutched to her chest. She pushed past the other Resistance fighters and ran up to the small group, presented the goods to her mother-in-law.

"Here, I brought your, ah..." The redhead coughed significantly and placed the bag in the suitcase on the ground. Deliah put a hand to her cheek and smiled brightly.

"Oh, thank you dear! You can't go travelling without clean underwear!" She declared brazenly, causing Misty and Brock to blush.

"Ah, right, of course." Brock said, clearing a sudden block in his throat. The men ferried out the last of Deliah's necessities, and the Stone-Baron turned to give orders. "Well, looks like it's time to head off."

Hair bobbing, Misty turned her face fast. "Going? What about Gary?"

"Gary?" The older woman picked up on. "You mean Gary Oak? Oh, it's been so long!"

Brock sucked in his cheek and settled in for a lengthy fight. "Look, we-"

A sudden quake ended discussion. Mr Mime caught Deliah and Misty propped up Brock. As the tremors passed, various members of the Resistance pointed and shouted. Looking down, the high command saw the flying creatures of Pallet fall from the sky as though running out of power. Then the different coloured smokes stopped chugging from the stacks.

Then the near everyone was tugged to the ground by a colossal explosion. Hitting the grass hard, Brock couldn't help but be pleased that he positioned his men so far from the 'town' border.

Clambering to their feet, everyone watched the flames, intense like Celadon's destruction, but contained to the smaller area of Pallet. Brock patted Deliah's shoulder comfortingly as the inexperienced woman covered her eyes and ears.

"Shh, shh, we're safe." He assured.

Time passed for the witnesses to gather their nerve when some troops started pointing again. This time they indicated a faint mark in the fires – a figure shadowed by the backlight. Brock and Misty could scarcely believe their eyes. Was it him?

As the silhouette advanced, their eyes began to discern a smaller dot next to it, walking by the figures feet. Misty darted forward, followed by Morty, but she stopped when she thought of the blaze. She waited a full fifteen minutes as the man came closer.

It was Gary, as they had previously surmised. As his distinct height and shape became clearer, Misty waved, giddy like a school girl.

"Gary!" She shouted out, but he didn't raise his head. The heat scolded man kept forward, and as he came by, Misty could see his red eyes. Not even Eevee could look up from the grass. She didn't know what to say.

Gary walked passed the woman with his heart and as he approached Morty, the ghost hunter opened his mouth.

"Do you think it was the right thing to do?" He asked grimly. The Gym-Leader's supernatural knowledge could see Gary's actions – he'd killed his own grandfather.

The fighter looked up blankly, stopped and looked back at the pyre. Misty observed worriedly.

"Who knows?" He replied at length in a croaking voice. Morty had no more to say, and Gary pressed on to some unseen location. He passed the Resistance, and then their leader. Brock and Mr Mime instinctively stepped in front of Deliah as he came closer. "Mrs Ketchum." He said, not even looking at her as he walked by.

Staring at the ash, sweat and blood that covered Gary's handsome appearance, Deliah almost forgot to answer. "Um, Gary, you look..." She trailed off as he left earshot. Covering her mouth, she wondered at what Gary – and maybe her son – really was.

-- --

_Gary is a friend._ Misty told herself. _He's upset and a friend should go check on him._ She continued to think, justifying her pursuit of the man through the forest. This small wood wasn't Viridian Forest proper, where the Resistance was heading, but they would be able to catch up easily. Right now, she needed to make sure Gary was alright.

Cascading water could be heard through the trees, and on a hunch Misty headed for it. It wasn't far, and she came out at the waterfall's base. True to her intuition, Gary was here with Eevee, standing in the water fully-clothed, washing off the dirt. Misty immediately recognised this place.

_Maybe Gary does have some super sense of direction,_ she wondered, taking a hesitating step backwards. _He always seems to find his way into the worst spots possible..._

This was the place – where she had met the young man who had changed her life forever. Looking around the scene, Misty marvelled at how similar it looked. It was later in the day than back then, so the light was different, but it was still as picturesque as in the past. It also looked like it was still good for fishing.

_I should leave..._ her inner voice said, as she walked forward and announced herself.

Gary looked back, and some of the colour had left his eyes. After a pause, he nodded shortly. "Hey." He said, his voice moving back towards his natural pitch.

"Hey, I was just, um, seeing if you were okay." Misty said, shuffling her feet. His eyes fell to the water, and then he turned away.

Misty frowned and looked for a place to sit. A rock towards the bank looked comfy so she climbed over the rocks to sit on it.

As soon as her yellow shorts touched the stone, she remembered the spot. _Oh hell, I was sitting here when I fished Ash out..._ She swallowed and considered moving, but froze when Gary pull off his shirt. _I'm going to Hell..._ she judged, observing the lithe, tightly muscled man throw his black top onto the rocks and rub water over his skin.

She watched the show for a while, her face getting progressively redder. Gary, unconscious of the perving, pulled himself out of the water and sat next to her. Eevee remained in the water, paddling weakly, drained of his normal enthusiasm. Misty watched Gary grimly watch his pokémon, wondering what was on his mind.

Rocking back, Gary cleared his throat as though deciding something. "I, ah, wanted to..." He started stiffly. "Um, thank you for checking on me."

Misty was a little dazzled. "Ah, that's fine."

Rolling his sharp jaw, Gary kept his eyes forward. "I've got to be, ah, more appreciative of those who care for me, hey?"

Sighing, Misty glanced at the sky. One thing she didn't need to think about was the different people who cared for her. When she looked back down, she noticed Gary staring at her.

His eyes had an intensity that put her on the defensive. In fact, his face was coming closer. She leant back as far as the rock would let her.

"Ah, Gary?" She said in a frail voice, the blood rushing back to her face. There was energy between them.

"Sh..." He said, reaching out to the side of her head. Misty's body shut down – she couldn't move, all her joints were locked up. Her heart was battering at her ribcage, the tight feeling growing exponentially as his ever so handsome face came closer.

Gary's hand brushed against her shoulder, dislodging a weight she hadn't noticed.

"What... was...?" She tried to ask, unable to take her eyes from Gary's lips. She couldn't breathe.

"A bug." Gary replied breathily, not pulling back. _Oh god, he's looking into my eyes!_

"A... bug...?" Misty repeated mindlessly. She could smell her blood in her head and the sweat on Gary's body. Why did that smell so good?

At some point, she wasn't sure when, they were kissing. Gary's tongue was in her mouth, and she couldn't think of anything else in the universe but sensation of pleasure. The thrill of saliva mixing, the digging into each other's mouths. It was bliss. The ring on her finger grew very heavy.

Eventually they had to come up for air, and the moment their lips departed from each other, Misty dove seven feet away.

"Ihavetogo!" She shouted loud enough to shake the leaves in the trees. Eevee looked up at the sound, staring in confusion. The redhead sprinted for the wood, bumping into a few trunks as she disappeared.

Watching her go, Gary couldn't move, paralysed by the thrill, the absolute joy of having her as his, even for those few seconds. Then reality cooled the flame, and as that pleasant burn died, he could see more clearly the reality of the situation.

Twisting, he put his knuckles against his temples and screamed at the water.

-- --

Bugsy's queasy smile was stained with an overwhelming sense of victory. Pulling back further into the leaves, he turned to his companion on the branch. There was no way the Champion could deny _this_ witness' testimony of what happened at the foot of this waterfall. Oak was emptying his lungs and Misty was running from her own actions. Bugsy licked his teeth and wiggled his eyebrows beneath his greasy bowl-cut.

"What do you think of that?" He said soft enough not to be heard.

Further down the branch, Pikachu's fur was puffed up, silent from rage.

-

-

**Author's Notes:**

Right, had fallen out of the habit of writing, but hopefully I can finish this epic work. Geez, I sure cut out my own work for me. I think I shall take Redheadthegirl's advice and try and keep chapters as short as possible.

Please Read and Review!


	24. Petty Revenge

**Disclaimer**: I still don't own Pokémon, because Nintendo and 4kids still do.

-

**Grasping the Moon**

Chapter 24 – Petty Revenge

_This is it!_ May cheered to herself, running down the palace's great halls, stopping at every mirror to correct her clothes and hair. _I'm in! That bitch screwed up big time, and now he's all mine!_

Almost passing the appropriate door, May skidded to a halt and dismissed the guards. As they shrugged and packed up their weapons, May composed herself, preparing for her moment of triumph. It had been such a long time coming that when the Elite Second had heard the news, she almost didn't believe it.

But it was true; the wife was cheating on Ash. Now, emotionally vulnerable and most likely open to 'punishing' his unfaithful wife by repeating the favour, the Champion was ripe for May to pick. And how she looked forward to having the juice of this fruit dribble down her chin...

She went through last minute checks. Hair – perfect. Shirt – tight in all the right places. Skirt – just short enough. May had no need for concern over the state of her body – she stayed in perfect shape, both figuratively and literally.

Licking her lips and tasting the flavour of her lipstick, May took a breath to calm herself and not appear over-eager. Adjusting her gloves, she pushed open the door quietly.

Inside was the Chosen One's quarters. Last time she had been here, she had accidently caught Ash and the wife in intimate embrace (how different she hoped this time would be!), but now it was dark. The window curtains were drawn and various items of furniture were broken. Ash sat on a relatively undamaged chair at his desk, his face hidden in his hands under his hat. His hat was on backwards, which was odd.

Pikachu was nowhere to be seen, probably giving his master space.

_Perfect, _May figured, knowing that the rat might give some foolishly wise advice to her target. She slipped inside and considered precisely how to approach Ash. She shut the door just loud enough to catch his attention.

"Oh Ash..." She said compassionately. "I'm so sorry..."

Ash didn't move, like he wasn't even aware of May. She didn't let it get her down now that victory was within her reach. She took some tender steps forward towards his back, getting into her role and crossing her hands over her bosom.

"If only there was something I could do!" The Elite Second lamented, closing in on her target. Ash's heavy shoulders didn't budge, nor did his handsome face rise from among his fingers. "If only I could somehow take your mind off the pain..."

May's brown eyes watched Ash for some weakness in resolve, or a tremor of desire. There was nothing – he was ice. Pouting in frustration, the Hoenn trainer flicked her bangs and decided to step up in aggressiveness. Leaning in, she unfurled her fingers, under the ministrations of which any man would melt.

"Maybe there is..." she suggested, applying her magic touch to his caped shoulders.

In an explosion of movement, the Champion had thrown his chair aside and was upon May. For an optimistic moment she thought she was successful and Ash had caved into the weight of lust – a dream that was smashed as she was thrown harshly into the wall.

Before she could even rebound from the impact, Ash was in her face – as was his black katana. The blade pierced her skin, blood clinging to the edge and riding down into the wall where the tip had embedded from the Great Kanto Trainer's lightning fast slash. May couldn't breathe, nor could she move her eyes from the black steel across her cheek – but even without looking, she could feel the compressing weight of Ash's rage.

"Don't. Touch. Me." He growled, before withdrawing his weapon and drifting back to his desk to sulk. Released, May gasped in a great lungful of air and slid to the floor, her strength gone. Staring at Ash as he resumed his previous position, the Elite Second touched the cut on her face, the blood covering her fingers.

-- --

"Madam!" Officer Jenny called, guiding her Pidgeotto to descend onto the roof of the Cerulean Gym. Daisy was sunbathing there with her two sisters, and the blonde eldest sister looked up at the woman who did all the work around Cerulean as her pokémon landed.

"Like, don't you know how to stay in theme?" The 'Gym-Leader' asked, staring at the flying-type. Jenny, who favoured pragmatics over appearances, decided not to bother defending her choice of pokémon, approached and saluted.

"Ma'am," She reported. "Pallet has been destroyed and the Rebellion sighted in the area."

Groaning, Daisy let her head fall back into her sun chair and began folding up her reflector. Lily and Violet did not follow suit, dozing behind their sunglasses. "Gawd, how much, like, worse can this get?" Cities were blowing up left, right and centre, all of Kanto was at war, and she hadn't seen her boyfriend in weeks. Was the world, like, against her?

"Ma'am." Jenny said carefully, realising that she was about to walk onto thin ice. She made sure not to look into Daisy's sunglasses and stared at the sunken city of Cerulean. "In the past few weeks, Mount Moon has exploded mysteriously, Celadon City has been burned to the ground, and many of the League's Gym-Leaders have been killed." The Captain licked apprehensively and pushed on. "Now that Pallet is gone, maybe we should..."

"Oh, not this again!" Violet whinged, rubbing at her forehead.

Jenny would not be silenced. "Ma'am, the Cerulean Marines are here, ready–"

Daisy flapped a hand to shoo her underling away. "We're, like, totally staying where we are."

"We can't just do that!" Jenny cried. "Things are changing – we have to do something!" She gazed at each of the Gym-Leaders imploringly. "Please, support the League, attack the League, anything! Just _do something_!"

The three models were silent, and Daisy, their leader by virtue of age, looked up at Jenny from behind her shades. Remembering her outburst, the Officer quickly retreated back to attention.

Blonde Daisy slowly lowered her sunglasses and stared at Jenny, and the former policewoman met the gaze. There was a sharp look in her eyes, and for the first time Officer Jenny suspected that the woman was more than an air-headed ditz.

"Like, didn't you hear me?" Daisy said slowly, heavily. Jenny's jaw was set and she made no response.

As the three clowns resumed their sun bathing, Jenny stared into the distance, trying to conceive of an argument that could win her superiors. Her musings were abandoned, though, when she saw something flying from the distance, burning in her eyes against the empty skies. Squeezing her eyes, she tried to make it out – it was far off, but large enough to be noticeable.

She could have sent one of the Marines to investigate, but her curiosity was piqued enough to do it herself. Leaving her leaders where they lay, she saluted farewell (not that they noticed) and ran back to her patient Pidgeotto.

Mounting the bird and take off, she looped around the side of the incoming object. Her long aqua hair trailing in the wind, she flew fast to meet the red flyer, which was keeping on speedily as they intercepted at the shore/city-limits.

Closing, Jenny noticed the air becoming noticeably warmer, and that her hair was sticking on end. Peering hard to discern the shape of what was entering Cerulean airspace. As soon as got a good look her heart stopped and she pulled Pidgeotto's feathers hard.

"Braaak!" The bird cried as he was forced to bank to the side and away.

"Turn! Turn!" Jenny screamed. It was a Charizard – a large one, covered in new scars, beating his mighty dragon wings to carry him into Cerulean. Jenny knew of a Charizard like that.

Glancing over her shoulder, she was glad to see that the dragon had paid her no heed. There was something else she saw, though – the red pokémon had a passenger, a small yellow rat with a thunderbolt tail.

"Oh no..." Jenny whispered to herself, colour leaving her face. She was a smart girl and put the pieces together. Quickly deciding that shouldering cowardice was lighter than shouldering a tombstone, she kicked at Pidgeotto's flanks to drive him far out of Cerulean and away from certain doom.

They didn't quite escape the explosion of fire and lightning.

-- --

Misty and Gary hadn't even looked each other's direction since... that time. The tall man leant against a tree, bobbing his ying-yang necklace, troubled. He couldn't help but feel that he'd cheated on Ash. Letting the necklace fall to his chest, Gary smothered his eyes.

_Will this affect my fighting?_ He asked himself. There were all sorts of stories about warriors losing their edge over women, or falling from a confused heart. Was there any substance to the tales? _And will I still be able to beat Ash?_

He could _feel_ her – she was standing over there, politely chatting with Mrs Ketchum. The recently-released lady was compulsively chatty – probably from nervousness at being out in the wide world again all of a sudden.

Deliah had other reasons to be nervous – the troops didn't like her. She was the mother of their oppressor – they should be slitting her throat to get back at him for all the throats he'd slit. That was the general opinion, anyway. Brock made sure that in addition to Mr Mime, he, Tracey or Misty were in Mrs Ketchum's presence at all times.

All of those named were present at this time. Brock preferred to keep Ash's mum far away from the military planning (probably for her own good more than for secrecy's sake), but the current discussion was about the specifics of advancing through the wood – nothing of great emotional weight. Misty was distracting the older woman well enough, anyway.

Eevee was with Mr Mime, playing juvenilely with the pathological pokémon. The clown didn't quite know how to take this childish affection, warding off the pup with his broom. Morty found their interactions far more interesting than the figures Brock was etching on the ground.

"Um, Brock?" Tracey asked, his expression revealing his question wasn't relevant to the current debate. Brock stopped accommodatingly and leaned on his stick. "Are we going to ever meet up with the reinforcements from Johto?"

Stone-Baron looked behind to make sure Deliah wasn't listening before leaning in to answer. "There are no reinforcements. That bastard Lance made up the whole thing." He paused. "At least, that's what I believe."

"We wouldn't be able to contact them without being caught if they _were_ there." Morty put in, surprising the others by revealing that he was paying attention. The lazy-eyed ghost-hunter turned to face the other leaders. "The sneaking-around's over – everyone knows the moves the others are going to make."

"So we just have to fight it out then." Tracey muttered, putting a hand on his carbine.

"And then we can all go home to our favourite girls, right?" The Ecruteak Gym-Leader added with that haunting grin, the shade of his Gengar flittering over his frame. Both Tracey and Brock's eyes snapped up, sensing that the man from Johto was saying something specifically to them. Precisely how much did this spirit-tamer know about everything? He was vaguely suspicious.

Gary rolled up into the little circle, drawing the others attention. He had nothing to say, but wanted something to distract him from the beaming feeling from the girl standing just over there.

Another broke into the discussion, running through the trees by where Snap sat on a trunk. It was one of the Celadon Rangers, his green cloak trailing, and Brock kept an eye on how close he passed by Mrs Ketchum. The Rangers were particularly vindictive towards the Champion.

"Sir!" He announced, but could get no further as the subjects of his report emerge behind him in the trees. It was an Officer Jenny – from Cerulean City, Brock's girl-senses immediately discerned – burnt all over and being carried forward by the Celadon Jenny and Vermillion Nurse Joy.

Brock's narrow eyes went bright with lust. "Well, _hello_! If this isn't an image from heaven!" He shot forward to receive the wounded woman. "I'd simply love to nurse you back to health! Of course," he looked to the other two beautiful women with waving eyebrows. "I'd _appreciate_ it if you two to assist me."

"Brock!" Deliah cried out in horror at the young man's openly flirtatious behaviour. Brock froze in horror and his dark skin went red. Misty stepped forward and kneed the large man in the stomach – much harder than usual, Gary noted, hypnotised anew by the shimmer of the Water Trainer's thigh.

Catching himself, Gary shifted his sight to the abashed Brock. The Pallet trainer put on his first smile in a while. "Haha, Brock, you've got worse luck today than normal, hey?" Tracey and Morty laughed along – they needed something to laugh at.

Celadon's Jenny wasn't going to let the mood lighten. "Cerulean was destroyed."

Silence struck like a bomb almost as strong as the bomb of the news. Misty and Tracey were paralysed.

"What?" Uttered Morty in disbelief.

"...Pikachu..." The injured Jenny uttered through the smoke in her lungs. "Fire and... Pikachu..." She fell out of consciousness.

"I have to take her for treatment." Joy whispered, pulling the casualty back to her medical station.

Misty covered her mouth and stepped back. Her entire composure breaking down, the thin woman spun and fled into Viridian Forest. Deliah, concerned, followed, and Brock quickly pointed for Mr Mime and Morty to follow.

Gary stared after Misty's shadow blankly. He knew what this meant – so did Brock, by the look on his hard face. Ash knew – he knew Misty was here. And in his hurt he had killed an entire city.

_His Pikachu destroyed an entire city..._ Gary repeated to himself. The thought still rooted him in the ground. How could a pokémon, even one of Ash's pokémon, have that much power? _Can I hope to match that?_

Eevee bit into Gary's purple pants and tugged. The dog drew Oak's attention to Tracey, was deathly pale and bumping into trees. The artist leant on a trunk for a painful moment before himself sprinting into the forest.

"What's wrong with Tracey?" He asked aloud. Brock was too preoccupied with the magnitude of the news to answer, but Gary was still surprised to hear Snap's voice.

"His girlfriend lived in Cerulean." The sniper said, coming to Gary's side, a smarmy grin on his face. "Didn't know that, did you?"

Gary couldn't respond, shocked that after all the time he'd known Tracey, Snap knew about his love life but he did not. Of all people – Snap. How could he not _holy crap Ash murdered all those people_ know about his friend's personal life? Was he really a friend?

Looking back to where Misty had disappeared, he wondered briefly which of the two to follow and do that support thing with. That's what he promised himself, to be a better friend. But he couldn't face _holy crap Ash murdered Misty's sisters_ Misty right now, so he ditched Snap and left the path into the trees.

Dodging between the tree-trunks with Eevee, Gary used his keen senses to follow where Tracey had carelessly left tracks. All at once he was struck with a bolt from heaven: _Ash knows about Misty and me._

Coming to a dead stop so that Eevee overshot, Gary turned and stared into the sky. "He knows..." he coiled the words around his tongue. The sheer terror pierced every sinew, shuddered his bones and swirled his blood. Ash must have become a black ball of ravaging hatred.

Swallowing in his dry mouth, Gary forced himself to move. Eevee saw that his master was moving again and took the lead.

-- --

Tracey was sitting on a rock in a high place, staring blanking over the forest. The view was beautiful, as the woods were rich and green, still alive even with all the death in the world. Here in the forest, death was natural – new plants grew out of the dead, and all the pokémon could feed off the leaves or each other. Death was life here. For once Tracey felt no need to take up a pencil and draw what he saw.

Gary watched from a distance as the artist stared into Viridian's profound teachings – teachings that were nonsense to him. A wet patch at the Watcher's feet hinted to Gary that as quiet and still as he was now, Tracey had been vomiting.

Eevee stepped forward and looked back to his master. Nodding his head in the right direction, the little dog prodded Gary onward. Taking hesitant steps forward, Oak approached his old friend.

No one said anything as Gary came close. He stood, staring down at Tracey's long black hair as the Watcher stared at the trees.

"You know, I think you're my oldest friend." Gary spurted, not sure why he did. _Except Ash, _he internally amended. _If he's what you'd call a friend..._

That strange statement out in the air, Gary sat next to Sketchit. The tubby man leant forward and started tracing the shape of his puke with the toe of his shoe.

"She was great, y'know." He said plainly. "Everyone thought she was a bimbo, but she was..." He faltered as emotion suddenly seized his throat. "...more than that."

Words wouldn't come to Gary's mouth and he looked ahead to gaze at the wonderful view. It was ugly as hell.

The two friends sat silently.

-- --

Agatha's parlour was like an archaic library, thick with tight shelves bursting with aging pages. Stacks of papers, notes and mad scribblings towered at every open space on the floor, like the spirit of the forest that had been chewed to create all these texts was reasserting itself, turning these piles of paper into a new jungle. Charms, amulets and other talismans hung from the ceiling like a small galaxy of churning evil.

The witch herself was seated silently in her chair, deep in a trance. She was undisturbed by the occasional falling sheet of papyrus dislodged by the things slithering invisible.

"Heh!" Agatha suddenly laughed; one of the few sounds that could escape the hag's crumbling vocals.

A book was pulled from its place on the shelf by an unseen hand, which carried it before Agatha's face. The book hovered, opened by the Mystic of Hell's magic, revealing it to be a work of Shakespeare.

One of the lines stood out to the sorceress, from one of her fictional predecessors: 'By the clicking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.'

The ink ran from the page, drifting up into the stale air. As the darkness spilled down, staining the open space, it fell into the shape of a woman. Details were picked out, revealing the form of Karen.

Unmentionable, shivering and shaking out her long dead locks, smiled down at her ancient lover. The Elite First bent over the immobile Agatha, running her fingers over the loose skin of her cheek in a mockery of affection.

Suddenly seizing the witch's throat, Karen exposed her long purple tongue and licked up the side of Agatha's face. The old crow made no attempt to resist, but opened her mouth in a cavernous smile.

Then Night-Whisper stopped. Standing up, Karen extended her hand, the black nails leaking forward and piercing a book on its shelf at the far side of Agatha's cramped room. Pulling the volume over, Gym-Slayer opened it and tore out a page, apparently at random.

"'I think a mighty thought draws near.'" Karen quoted from Chesterton.

Torn page fluttering to the ground, the monster evaporated into poisonous smoke, seeping out through the cracks in the walls. As she did so, the old wooden door of the parlour took a beating, shaking dust from its disused frame. It was struck again, forcing the rusted hinges to give.

Forcing a tree of tomes to the side as he pushed open the entrance, Ash Ketchum entered. His black cape and cap could not match the dark look in the lines of his face. Weaving through the paper-stacks, the Champion approached the Hag, careful not to touch any of the cursed items. Her beady greying eyes stuck to him like sin.

Coming to her front, unwittingly where Karen once stood, he stuck out a gloved hand and toppled a pile of esoteric books. Sitting on the stump, Ash faced the old woman, a grim breath from his lungs. He stared at Agatha, the woman who had peered behind the veil and let her mind flay in the giddy thrill of ethereal madness. How she must have changed from the times she toured the world with Professor Oak and the Dragon Master as kids.

Something hissed like a whisper, and a voodoo doll tumbled onto a bed of paper, but Ash saw no cause. He turned his serious eyes back to the witch, who was watching him and musing over his similarities to his father.

Ash's mind was on what he had just done. Lowering his eyes, he inquired of her secret knowledge.

"Am I going to Hell?"

Agatha opened her maw and cackled thickly, rumbling the creaky wood of her quarters.

-- --

Morty stayed a distance from where Deliah and Mr Mime were with Misty as she cried out everything that needed to come out. Doubtless she was revealing the whole story to her mother-in-law, including her improper thoughts about that Gary Oak. Morty's sight beyond sight had seen the lust squirming out from their hearts from the moment they were reunited. Things were very complicated here in Kanto.

"And I just thought we would be grinding out destiny." He mused aloud, knowing that his Gengar was listening. The snickering ghost appeared from the shadows of a tree.

"You're getting bold." Morty said to the pokémon who didn't normally like to venture out in the sunlight, but Gengar pointed up with a sharp finger. Looking through the trees to the sky, Morty saw that it was growing dark. "Heh."

The ghost hunter was so used to darkness that he hadn't noticed the light fading. Funnily enough, he hadn't noticed the hours pass either. How long had that girl been crying out her woes?

Gengar flew right up to his master's face and, with a grin, slapped the man's cheek. Morty bore the blow with parent-like patience and looked the pokémon in the red eyes. The black being pointed back over Morty's shoulder.

"Garrr."

Ecruteak's Gym-Leader turned just as he heard the crush of leaves. Deliah and Mr Mime were approaching, the older lady with a hand over her lips. Morty wondered if she had fully understood what her son had done. Behind them was most wounded of them all, Misty, her face hidden as she watched the leaves pass beneath her.

Mrs Ketchum and her faithful pokémon passed by him, the lady giving him a meaningful look that even Morty's powers could not interpret. Gengar disappeared into Morty's loose shirt and the pair pushed on. The magician watched them go.

Then Misty approached and stopped in front of him. She was bent with grief, and while Morty could feel her sadness and anger against her husband, he could also feel guilt within her. It hurt his eyes to look at the distressed woman.

Her lips moved and she said something too softly for the man to hear. Morty leaned in.

"Hm?"

Raising her volume fractionally, Misty asked, "What happens after we die?"

A grimace pulled Morty's face and he straightened, looking into the sky, and not just because of the obvious reason she was asking the question. He was frequently asked this.

"Why don't you ask Nurse Joy?" He suggested.

But Misty didn't want to ask the nun. "I'm asking you." She said, lifting her tear-burned eyes.

Morty refused to meet her pathetic gaze. "Why would you believe me over her?" Gengar was chuckling in the wind.

"You do all that magic stuff, right?" Misty explained, sounding almost infantile in her pleading. She unwrapped her arms and grabbed the shirt of Morty, the Tomb-Raider of Ecruteak. "You know, don't you?"

Sighing heavily, Morty looked away into the forest, carefully not to see the woman's face. He carried many weights that most people wouldn't understand. "You see glimpses." He muttered, hoping it would suffice as a compromise, but not naive enough to expect it would.

Misty tugged on his shirt aggressively. "Tell me!" She demanded.

Closing his eyes, Morty tried to choose his words carefully. "People like me shouldn't exist." He said, opening his eyes and looking down at Misty. Telling her what truth he had would not ease her heart, but how could he lie to her pain? "Even the little I know should not belong to humans. That's the only thing I really know."

His answer could not have satisfied Misty, and she snarled in careless anger. "Tell me!" She ordered again, much louder. The thin woman began to punch Morty in the chest. She hit _hard_, but Morty tried not to let it show in his face. She kept piling on blows, repeating her demand every time her fist hit something.

Soon her limited remaining energy was exhausted and she collapsed against the Tomb-Raider. She was out of tears, but sobbed anyway. "Why do all the men in my life get me lost?" Misty whispered into the surfer's shirt.

Compassion twisting his gut and moistening his eyes, Morty wrapped his arms around her in comfort. Emerging from his world of night, Gengar did the same, his grin inverted.

-- --

Drilled into the northward hills, in a crater rimmed with trees was Pewter City. Burning forge-pits dotted the northeast of the city, while the middle was thick with scaffolding and workers, repairing the damage to the factories and housing projects done by the rubble thrown upon them by Mount Moon's detonation. Crowning this fledging production base, which was slowly rolling off offerings to the gods of blacksmiths, was a large palace.

Angular spires skewered the sky of this opulent show, and it would have been easy to assume from the polished gleam from every surface, without and within, that the entire structure was built from silver. But it was not so – Pewter's new Gym was assembled only from steel, decorated with inlaid samples of the functional metals – copper, iron, and titanium.

A runner approached the towering gates of this strange merging of the pre-modern and science-fiction, handing his message to one of the immaculately dressed Iron Guardsmen standing guard. Reading the paper, the guard exchanged a look with his fellow member of the League. The messenger nodded his head, confirming the grim news.

The Iron Guardsman had been given specific instructions, and left his post to run up a nearby watchtower. Puffing as he reached the top, he didn't pause before hefting a long rod and striking the large gong at the tower's peak. As the tinny sound rung out and rumbled the palace, communicating to the one on the bronze throne that it had finally happened.

Deep within the Palace of Steel, the Iron Maiden stirred

-

-

**Author's Notes:**

We're getting there, we're getting there...

Shortest chapter in a while... maybe ever? I can't help but think it was a little awkwardly written in the scene when the news hits the Resistance, but oh well.

You have no idea how I've longed to finally write 'Deep within the Palace of Steel, the Iron Maiden stirred.'

**Redheadthegirl:**Thank you again for your kind words! With your blessing, the next chapter will probably be a long one. And the next one after that. Then the epilogue. Then we've finished!

**Atrioc:** Please write it, I enjoy reading reviews, both positive and negative (except flames, of course). We're almost at the finish line.

Please Read and Review!


	25. The Earth 1

**Disclaimer**: I still don't own Pokémon, because Nintendo and 4kids still do.

-

**Grasping the Moon**

Chapter 25 – The Earth

Part 1

"This is _it_?" Will asked angrily, staring at the crates that were laid out across the field outside of Indigo City. Some Team Rocket grunts had pried some boxes open for show, revealing ammunition, rifles and other guns. Other than the occasional handheld rocket launcher, it was all small arms.

"Is dere a problem?" The long white Persian asked, approaching the psychic. Will glared down at the pokémon. They were standing among the crates dumped outside what once was the Main Gate – though after Lance and Sabrina's assault, it was still a spewing open hole, with no chance of repair in the near future. For now the League would have to live with the gaping wound in their defences.

"You promised us cannons, tanks, _armour_." He flicked out his gloved hand at Team Rocket's pitiful offerings. Stress was already beating at him, and the discomfort of being out in the darkening sky rather than in with the books was getting to the Saffron Gym-Leader. "At best there are three howitzers here."

One of the three Team Rocket executives, the blue-haired fop, also arrived, showing his palms apologetically. "Oh, sorry to say there's no supply for that demand right now." The wimpy man raised a finger and winked. "Never put faith in fickle financial forecasts!" James continued, foolishly believing alliteration would smooth things over.

Will ground his teeth and glared through his glasses. "If the Boss were here, you wouldn't be so coy."

"But what's this? He isn't!" The third said, the red-haired amazon Jesse. She was far more brazen in how she cheated the League, smiling cockily. "Such a shame the twerp couldn't come out and meet us."

The Persian bounded easily on top of a crate, bringing himself eye-level with the Saffron Gym-Leader. "Now where's da money?"

Stiff with rage, Will entered a furious staring match with the mentally weakest of the three merchants. James was far out-classed in this contest of wills.

"Uh, we can offer you a five percent discount for the trouble!" He caved, waving his hands. Jesse immediately kicked his shin as Persian slashed his cheeks.

"Fine." Will grudgingly accepted, aware that desperation left him open to these one-sided deals. He led the greed-drunk criminals to a decrepit van. Summoning a psychic sword, he slashed the lock and opened its back doors with his mind. Taking a duffel bag of money as his discount, he left the robbers with the last of the League's funds.

Levitating the bag of money to a safe location as the Team Rocket trio literally swum in the money in the back of the truck, Will walked back to his less-than-ideal allies. Passing several Rockets lounging in the grass, he came up to Bugsy.

The grime-ball was handling a hunting rifle, flanked by two lieutenants of the Viridian Airborne who towered over him. He discarded the weapon as the acting commander-in-chief came into his presence.

"What about the tanks?" Bugsy asked. Will walked passed and began shuffling through the crate.

"We'll have to make do with this." He answered, throwing an Uzi with a few clips to each of the Airborne pilots. Considering the current level of armament among the League, this was likely an upgrade. Everything was being banked on the next series of battles – tomorrow was fate's day.

"Hey," Bugsy asked in an inappropriate tone when talking to a superior officer. Picking his nose while doing so was not endearing either. "There's something we should..."

Will growled aggressively, causing the androgynous trainer to dislodge his finger in surprise. "What is it?" Fair-Tongue demanded, sick of hearing bad news. "Is there a problem the evacuation?"

"No no no, everything's fine!" The Bugsy insisted with waving hands, his two subordinates exchanging looks at his cowardly behaviour. At this Will calmed down. "I was looking through the battle plan – I figure you could probably magically do that thing with their leaders, but the way it's looking, the Airborne will only be getting the little guys, not them."

Argonaut nodded in confirmation. The Viridian Airborne were the only Gym being directly assigned in defence of their hometown, as this would be the last opportunity to use them at full ability before the tunnels of Victory Road – he'd learnt that much from Surge. "Yes, that's right. The Rebel command element will be dealt with the new Viridian Gym-Leader."

"Oh." Said Bugsy, dazzled. He hadn't heard about a new Gym-Leader for Viridian – in fact he had figured that since being placed in charge of the Airborne Gym that _he _was the new Gym-Leader. It seemed reasonable that it had been a reward for reporting Lady Ketchum's unfaithfulness. The Bug-Master began feeling a lot less chuffed. "So, ah, how's he going to do it?"

Not having any true desire to continue speaking to the insect he was forced to work with, Will turned away. "If things go to plan," He started, indicating to the distant body of troops they could arm themselves. "They will kill themselves."

-- --

Deliah didn't feel like sleeping, she couldn't even bring herself to change into nightclothes. Mr Mime, likely exhausted from being so tense all day, had fallen asleep, broom in hand, on a seat by the entrance to their tent. Smiling, Mrs Ketchum carefully rounded her pokémon and ducked through the entrance.

Out in the night air, she stretched happily. It was much nicer in the open world – she had been stuck in that nasty old house for so long that being inside even the thin sheets of a tent was comfortable enough to put her on edge.

"Mmm..." The woman purred, the air wonderfully crisp without being cold – the benefits of camping in the Viridian Forest. Brock was nearby, keeping watch by the fire. He hadn't noticed Deliah though, as he was leaning back and peering through the trees to where some woman of the Resistance were bathing, thinking themselves unseen.

Her maternal instincts flared up, but she decided not to lecture the large boy. He was, after all, a healthy young man, and under a great deal of stress. What's more, it would be bad for Brock to be scolded so in front of all his men. Deliah knew more of these matters than the Rock Master realised.

Thinking back to her adventurous past, Mrs Ketchum turned and headed the opposite direction from the stream into the trees. Passing by all the assorted tents that housed the troops, she didn't fear for her safety – after all, if a wild animal or thug accosted her, there were all these strong men here to help her! And it wasn't as if no one knew where she was going – all those men around the fires were giving her such long looks. Coiling her hair, Deliah felt a bit flattered.

Folding grass beneath her shoes, with only the night sounds and cracking fires as music, she explored her new freedom to move. Everyone in the immediate area was staying immobile – the poor dears were probably all tired.

"Mm..." She sighed, looking up to the sky. It was full-moon, but she had avoided windows too long to know what that truly meant yet. Everyone was so down, after the news about Cerulean. "I wonder if I should take Misty with me..." She said to herself. "Let her talk it out some more..."

The thought vanished when Deliah heard the sound of another pressing the grass. Her heart didn't even jump, looking around she was only interested in company to stroll with. Seeing no one, she figured it was a trick of the forest and moved on.

Passing through the outer borders of the camp, the rank and file troops keeping their eyes upon her, Mrs Ketchum kept going, but paused when she heard a twig snap. Looking low this time, her eyes caught hold of something, hiding in the grass. The ambient light was enough to pick out yellow fur.

Viridian Forest was well known for being a natural habitat for Pikachu's, but the sight still caused Deliah discomfort. The way this Pikachu was staring at her was particularly unsettling. She had only seen one Pikachu over the last few years, so perhaps it was natural that they all looked alike to her.

"Haha, oh dear..." Deliah forced out a laugh to steady herself. "You sure surprised me, my little dear..."

The Pikachu watched her a moment longer before jerking his head back in a clear indication for her to follow. Stunned, Deliah watched the rat vanish into the undergrowth. Swallowing difficultly, she glanced back at the fires of the Resistance war camp. It wasn't so much adventure that drove her to pursue as a strange sense of duty.

It had been a long time since Mrs Ketchum had needed to track someone through woods, but the Pikachu had made sure to leave clear tracks for her to trace. The careful pattern of it, in addition to the implied secrecy, really unnerved the woman.

Trees parted into a minor clearing, where Deliah was faced with a strange absurdity. A table with a check cloth over top, set with food and abundant candles. A pair of white, finely made chairs completed the set, like it had been lifted directly from an Italian restaurant into Viridian. Pikachu stood off to the side, high on a tree root. On one of the seats, washed orange by candlelight, was her son.

"Hi, Mum." Ash said miserably.

Deliah was frozen. She grew up in the Old World, she knew how wars worked. Ash had infiltrated this close to the Resistance nerve centre carrying a table and accompanied by at least one pokémon who could destroy the entire uprising in a moment. Ash could solve all his problems right now if he wanted. But he was just sitting there for dinner, pouring himself a glass of wine.

"Sweety?" His mother asked, unable to express her shock and mystification in any more complex terms.

Ash shrugged, pulling off his cap and hanging it on the point of his chair. "Tonight's the night we always have dinner." He explained lazily, and Deliah watched as he downed his entire glass in one go.

Hesitant, but too curious to run, Deliah approached and took a seat. The spaghetti bolognaise and salad was poorly made – Ash must have tried to do it himself. Brushing down a hair, Mrs Ketchum shifted uncomfortably before taking up her fork.

The Champion leant forward. "Do you love me, Mum?" he asked thickly, looking down. Deliah started at such a forward question, looking up at Ash. Seeing his face closer, she could see that the dark rings about his eyes were not tricks of candlelight. He must not have slept.

"Yes." The word freighted up her throat from deep within, and not a fibre, thought or spirit in her body would raise a hand in dispute. Hearing the blunt honesty of her maternal affection relaxed the Great Kanto Trainer's shoulders a little, and he began eating, drinking more wine.

Looking to Pikachu, Mrs Ketchum saw the pokémon's pleading look. He was worried about Ash. Stupidily, selfishly, Deliah too ached over how her son was suffering.

They ate in silence until Ash said, "This is nice." He looked out into the trees and the distant glow of his enemies. Brock. Misty. _Gary_. "We should eat outside more – it was getting so cramped in the house."

Never in her life had Deliah ever experienced the urge to strike her son, but now she could only hold back her hand by squeezing her cutlery. As the ephemeral desire passed, she took a deep breathe and resumed her meal.

Her eyes couldn't help but drift to the empty seat at her side. Forcing down another mouthful of sub-standard pasta (though loving it all the same – her son had such potential as a chef!), she asked, "Will Misty be joining us, dear?"

It was a very dumb question. She could feel the atmosphere flatten in an instant, popping the facade of calm. Ash's joints fused, grinding to a halt as he was raising his glass to his lips. Deliah closed her eyes and prayed that there wouldn't be an explosion or an argument.

Slowly, movement came back to Ash's members. Emptying his glass down his throat, he sat it on the table and tried to fill it again. The bottle was used up, so he calmly set it down and reached under the table for another. He never bothered to offer his mother a glass, for she disliked drinking.

"Nah." He finally said, re-priming the glass.

Licking her lips, a dreadful possibility came to Deliah. Ash was here undetected, and could kill anyone he wished easily. Anyone who had hurt him deeply, especially if they were unsteadied by grief...

Shooting to her feet as the image of orange hair swimming in red blanketed her mind, Deliah knocked her plate to the ground. Covering her mouth, she stared down on her son in horror. He was very confused at her uproar.

"Oh Ash, you didn't!"

Her tone amply communicated her accusation, and the Chosen One was soon on his feet too, gesticulating defensively. Pikachu, seeing things unravel, bounded forward.

"I didn't! How could I-" Cutting himself off, the Champion grabbed the fresh wine bottle and took a long swig.

Tears were in Mrs Ketchum's eyes. "Oh Ash..." She whispered. The cape on his shoulders, everything about her son she had tried to ignore was becoming apparent. He never looked so much like his father, and yet nothing like him. Lancey would never let himself become so vulnerable.

Leaning weightily against the table, Ash grabbed at his head desperately. Everything he was trying to abandon into the past was crowding into his future. He was losing any sense of vision, of dream. And his own _mother_ thought he was capable of murder – Misty of all people! – thought he was capable of...

_Oh god._

Putting the mouth of the bottle to his lips, he kissed the wine until the thoughts seemed to drown. Drown in the sea of red. The sea of blood. _ Oh god..._ The bottle lowered.

Faithful Pikachu jumped onto his master's chair, trying to see if he was okay. Deliah watched in fear and concern, and didn't know whether to dote or flee when Ash slowly turned towards her.

He came up to his mother and hugged her. Holding her for a while, he broke the contact again.

"Good night mother." Ash said, knowing that his would not be. This said, he turned to walk away, Pikachu collecting his cap in his mouth and following. Leaving his mother and the Resistance, he was absorbed into the night and the trees.

-- --

Last night's dreams held a revelation; Gary had met Mewtwo once before. Some sort of psychic wall must have been erected to hide the memory – one Mewtwo apparently had deemed time to lift. It was in the Gym of Viridian City, where the armoured prophet of fate had denied the young boy the Earth Badge – a badge that Ash Ketchum had gone on to win.

_Ash conquered the earth,_ Gary mused, looking up into the morning sky. _There's probably meaning in that somewhere._

In all his long travels, he had never got around to reclaiming that particular injury to his pride. Perhaps he had spent too much time looking at the stars, but now here he was at the cusp of Viridian City, with a chance to conquer its Gym, that had flown from his grip so many times before. The Earth Badge – the only badge that Ash had won that Gary had failed to collect for himself.

He and the rest of the troops were 'hiding' in the forest along Viridian's southern border, though they were not trying too hard. From here the city looked abandoned – there were no watches, no defensive walls, or even signs of life. There was only one route up to Indigo Plateau, and the League had likely evacuated the citizens of Viridian in expectation of the inevitable battle.

It was hard to say without looking at the people themselves, but Viridian appeared to have not changed during Kanto's degradation. There was relatively modern architecture in its study buildings, and while developed it didn't have the giddy skyscrapers of Saffron, but didn't seem to carry the burden of meaningless existence either. If it weren't for the Lavender-like ghost-town theme going on at the moment, it would look like a normal city.

_That's almost surprising, considering everything else I've seen so far._ Gary thought to himself, scratching Eevee's head. The dog kicked in joy and Oak smiled – it was a nice morning, and for this little while he could pretend that all the bad things hadn't happened. It was just him, Eevee and glory ahead.

Brock wasn't too far away, and Gary could see him glance backwards every couple of minutes. He had left Mrs Ketchum with Nurse Joy, the only non-combatant he could trust, and that purely because she was a nun. The Cerulean Jenny was back there too, wounded, but who knew if she would want to take an eye for an eye.

Something moved in the grass ahead, and Gary's eyes snapped onto it. There were several shapes, invisible except for their movement, which approached the Resistance leadership. Misty saw it as well, and squinted to see.

"Here comes Tracey." She announced, her throat dry and thin. Brock and Deliah had put all their strength into trying to keep her out of today's battle, but she would not be dissuaded. The woman was eternally stubborn, more so that the seemingly impervious Stone-Baron.

Tracey and some of the Rangers emerged from the grass and ran up to where Brock was standing. The Resistance Leader looked expectant.

"The city's empty." The Watcher reported, pulling back the hood of his borrowed green cloak. "But there are large detachments of the Viridian Airborne to the north-east."

Brock nodded. This was more or less what he was expecting. Turning to the troops around him, he raised a hand for attention.

"Pokémon out!" He announced, pulling off pokéballs from his own belt and releasing his massive Onix, Crobat and Golem. Morty's Gengar extracted himself from the shadows, while Tracey's Scyther, Venonat and Marill soon joined the crowd.

Had anyone been watching, this would have given away the Resistance's position, but it also meant that they would be entering Viridian prepared. Misty closed her eyes and sighed for courage before summoning her Starmie, Azumaril and, surprisingly, Tentacruel. She rubbed the squid's bulbous head affectionately.

Gary watched her distantly. They still had not exchanged words, but this was not time to think of that. Dumping his pokéballs, he let Blastoise, Arcanine, Scizor, Nidoking and Nidoqueen into the world. With the full compliment of his mighty battalion at play, Eevee felt comfortable enough to nestle into Gary's shoulder again, climbing up his master's clothes.

The cacophony of divergent colour began a slow advance over the outer fields of Viridian. Tracey's Venonat and similarly-skilled bug-types scanned the ground thoroughly for landmines. Brock wasn't going to take any chances.

"Ee?" Eevee asked, keeping his eyes on the skies. Gary had to admit that the dog had a point.

"Yeah, you're probably right." He admitted, reassuringly rubbing under the pup's chin. "But is there anyone smart enough left in charge of the Airborne to attack us while we're in the open?"

Nidoking was growing impatient with the snail's pace of the advance. He stamped aggressively, causing Nidoqueen to grab her mate's arm calmingly. Keen to vent anger, the large pokémon gave her a hard look before thundering forward again.

A beefy hand pinned the giant's shoulder. Blastoise gave his fellow a warning look not to grow too bold. Where a lover's pleading had failed, the water turtle's natural authority cowed Nidoking.

Tension winding, the Resistance front-lines eventually reached the streets of the city.

"Spread out." Brock ordered, whispering more from tight fear of the silent shops than necessity. "Flood the streets."

As pokémon and humans poured in to cover as much ground as possible, a buzz shrilled from above Gary's head. Looking up, he saw where Scizor was hovering, monitoring the situation and correlating data with computer logic. Bionic eyes staring impassively into his master's, the cybernetic pokémon pointed forward with a large pincer.

Following his pokémon's indication, Oak saw the sky darkening from the beating wings of a large detachment of flying pokémon. On their backs were the feathered troops of the Viridian Airborne, keen to avenge the loss of its last two Gym-Leaders.

"Brock!" Gary shouted, startling Misty and Morty who were in front of him.

"Go! Go!" Brock ordered, waving through Tracey and the Celadon Jenny. As the greater portion of the Resistance entered the streets, he himself sprinted in. Men began plastering themselves to the buildings, beneath the protective balconies, but Brock kept straight on, the leaders of the insurrection somewhere near him in the crowd.

He knew that they had to spread the troops over a decent area. To that end, he pressed forward, forcing his men to trail. If the Viridian Airborne caught them in packed together, there would be a massacre.

Shadows ghosted him as the first Staraptors and Pidgeots passed overhead.

-- --

Majestic wings beating with strength, war markings over their saddles, the League's airforce was a magnificent sight in the air. Though most of their elite flying aces had been killed weeks ago by Gary Oak, they still provided and formidable adversary for any foe daring enough to cross them. Two defeats, two Gym-Leaders to avenge, each man had look of fatalistic desire – nobody expected them to stop the Rebels here, but if they could avail themselves well, they might clean their soiled reputation.

Contrasting against the fearful sight of these men and pokémon riding the wind was their 'leader', Bugsy. The greasy little man was poised atop his diminutive Ledian, comical among the nobility of the Pidgeottos and Staraptors. No one dared disrespect him though, for there were Ledians whisked through the war band like plague, such that everywhere you looked, Bugsy seemed to be there.

"Heh." He chuckled singularly. Fingering his nozzle in his hands, a sick smile crossed his discomforting features. Strapped to his back was a large tank, strung up to a weapon-nozzle that he held like a pest-terminator. It was filled with poison gas, the sort that caused men's lungs to melt out their mouths.

Down below the Airborne could see the Rebels in the streets, a rainbow of colours dotting their streets. This was Viridian, their home, and the thought of traitors filling it, crawling through its holes in hiding as the Rebels did was more disgusting to their guts than the queer antics of their superior. It was not Bugsy's home, however, and he turned his smiling face.

Looking around his squadron, black bowl-cut flickering in the wind, the Bug Master nodded to the lieutenants. "Alright, we're going in." He attached an ancient gas-mask to his face, peering out its insectoid-goggles. His mouth was muffled through the oversized breathing apparatus. "Remember, no one goes under ten feet, or you end up six feet under."

The order for attack out, Bugsy pulled his Ledian's ear, bringing the insect down in a strafe, his bug collection following behind. As he pointed his gas nozzle, the rest of the Airborne swooped after him with courageous abandon, as though throwing down their lives for Viridian.

-- --

Death was in the air – and it wasn't just Fearows strafing stars of energy swiftly over the Celadon Rangers. Gary could see blue clouds being spewed down into the streets, and judging by the choking men in their midst, it looked like some sort of gas. _Great, bio-chemical weapons._ He thought sarcastically, noticing a Pidgeot and his grim-faced rider targeting him.

Crouching back behind Nidoking as their swooped over, the bird pecked viciously at Nidoking's hard head. The blow was ineffective against the earthy titan, who lashed out, trying to tear the bird from the sky. His claws clipped the Pidgeot's wing, but the rider skilfully kept the pokémon airborne. As they passed, Gary turned and took the man's arm off with his AK-47.

"Ee!" Eevee whinged from underneath Nidoking's thick tail.

"I know, I know!" Gary cried out. Looking out again around Nidoking's scales, he saw that some Ranger who was worth a damn had ordered his Gloom to spin his vines like a fan against the advancing blue cloud. Oak's own Arcanine had taken up position nearby, the fiery dog apparently planning to – if all else failed – burn up the gas and all inside it.

Satisfied that he wouldn't die choking for now, Gary coiled around and took a breath and patted his Nidoking's back. As much as he and Nidoqueen could take hits, Eevee was right – if he stayed out here in the middle of the street using them as cover, things would get sour fast.

The crowd of Resistance men here was still thick, vulnerable but still warding off the birds with heavy fire. Smart troops knew the best cover was under the overhangs around the sides of the large buildings, and maybe the statues in the parks and courtyards.

"Let's move on." Gary said, standing. Eevee followed as he ran down the street, the rest of his pokémon preferring to take their time and enjoy the turkey-shoot. He dodged around Blastoise as he watered the sky, and pushed to advance the lines.

Passing many men as they hid, firing desperately at the vultures above, some of the Rangers – God help them – still using their bows, Gary picked out some familiar faces. Skidding to a stop and hitting at post-box, Gary ducked and yelled to them.

"Hey!" he cried. Recognising his voice, Brock, Misty and Snap looked down. "We have to advance!" He pretended to be addressing Brock.

Flinching as some of Leaguers blazed with their machineguns, the Stone-Baron raised his dark head. "I'm all for it!"

Breaking cover, the Resistance Leader sprinted through his men, quickly coming to the front line. The others were close, though Misty kept her eyes squarely forward. Gary tracked her orange hair until the group burst forth into relatively open streets.

They kept ahead, letting the rank and file fill up the gaps behind them.

"Ahead!" Brock shouted back. Gary looked up, seeing a large body of wings incoming, mixed in with some... bugs. At the helm, riding a spotted Ledian, was a man in a mask, blue clouds spilling around him.

Diving into a side street with the others to avoid the onslaught, Gary wove deeper into the city. Snap held back to take some shots and make some money. Glancing over his shoulder to watch how the sniper fared, Gary was surprised to see the sniper was nowhere to be seen.

"Hey, where'd Snap..."

Looking forward, Oak's heart shivered seeing that both Misty's mesmerising orange hair and fine if scrawny rump had similarly disappeared. Indeed, while his rear-end and spiky cut weren't nearly so interesting, Brock was also gone.

Mute from shock, Gary looked around and suddenly realised that the sound of battle – the gunfire, screams and flap of wings – was far away, at the other end of the city. A tail brushed over his black shoes, and Gary's eyes fell, glad to land on Eevee's furry form. The pup was also staring around the empty streets.

With nothing else to say, Gary could only finish his sentence. "...go?"

-- --


	26. The Earth 2

**Disclaimer**: I still don't own Pokémon, because Nintendo and 4kids still do.

-

**Grasping the Moon**

Chapter 26 – The Earth

Part 2

"Oh man, have I really gone crazy?" Misty asked aloud in a panic. Things had been so insane recently that it had crossed her mind more than once that _she_ was the one out of step. But she calmed herself and assessed the situation.

Looking down, there was definitely grass under her feet now. Looking around, she could see that Brock, Snap and... uh, _he_ were nowhere to be seen, and that she was in Viridian central park. Looking up, she could see no birds of prey. Looking inside her eyelids, she could barely hear the battle she was just part of.

"Um..." she said aloud, trying to clog up the creepily sudden quiet. "Okay, what's happened?"

Her heart seized in her chest. Was this some act of fate? Had God pulled her from the fight to spare her from death? Her eyes went wide. Did that mean the Resistance was going to lose?

Spinning and sprinting, she headed for the nearest sound of wings. She made it twenty metres before her sense caught up with her.

"No no no..." she said, forcing her breathing back to normal pace. Leaning against a tree and rolling to her back, Misty sighed heavily. "Don't rush to conclusions... there's a thousand possible options here."

Rubbing her eyes, she groaned. "I need some sleep." She couldn't get any at all last night. Letting her tired knees drop her against the ground, she kneaded her eyes with her palms. They felt pudgier than usual. Tenderly touching her gelled hair, she noted all the strands out of place, and was struck with a strangely girly thought.

_I must look like a mess..._ She figured, bowing her head miserably. Then she could see _him_... and _him _as well. _They _were standing on either side of her, and she wondered if they found her pretty.

Screaming, she shot up in a fit of violence, punching and kicking at the two imaginary figures. It was wasted effort, but more stood on the other side of the tree – her sisters, standing in a row with their heads bowed, their masses of beautiful hair swallowing their faces. But it was only empty air. A sick feeling welled in her stomach and she head butted the tree.

The rough bark against her forehead helped, but still she began to cry a little. It wasn't a major leak, but she couldn't stop herself. So real... she swore she could have heard _his_ cape jostle and could have felt _his_ imposing height over her. "Oh hell... I _am_ going mad..."

Selfishly (she figured) taking reprieve from the battle, she leant against the tree crying, and lost track of time. She might have even napped, because her eyes were dry when she heard the sound of shifting leaves.

"Who's there!?" She shouted, spinning and pulling out her huge steel mallet. Her desperate, aching eyes wiped over the park, seeing a brownish colour in the hedges.

She charged brutally, but stopped after two steps when she saw that it was Brock. He had been pushing through the shrubs and when he stumbled upon her.

"Misty?"

Running again, Misty barrelled into Brock and hugged the large man tightly. "Oh, thank you thank you thank you!"

Brock's unreadable eyes stared down at Misty in surprise at her reaction and squeezed her back. "Are you alright?"

Grinding back the truth, she let go and pushed back to look into her friends face. "Safe. Better with you around."

Nodding, the tanned man patted her on the shoulder and she rubbed her eyes again.

"Do you know what happened?"

Misty shook her head and turned around. "No." She said, walking over the grass, leaving Crumble-Heart behind. "But hopefully the others are as close as you were. Let's go."

She walked on, putting distance between her and her old friend. When she realised he wasn't behind her, she slowed.

"Misty," he asked as she twisted to see why he was as immovable as a boulder. As best as she could tell, he was staring into her eyes. "Do you want to kill Ash?"

-- --

It was a stroke of good luck for Brock to run into Misty by the abandoned bank. Whatever had separated them – presumably some sort of teleportation – was obviously part of a League plot. It was necessary for the command element to band back together quickly and reunite with the troops. Things could end up going very badly...

"I haven't been in Viridian for a long time." Brock explained to Misty beside him. She was keeping in time with his brisk pace – it seemed that the shock of sudden displacement had shifted her out of her malaise. She looked up with her big aqua eyes. "Should we go left here or further down?"

She smiled strangely and put her finger on her lip. "Oh, I could go down." The curls of her lips tightened. "I could go _way _down."

Brock's invisible eyes blinked in confusion at her response. She was obviously trying to say something more that merely provide directions, but what? Man, he didn't have time for this girl stuff.

"Ah, right. Further down." He looked forward as he advanced, wondering if he should abandon Misty here to keep her out of the fight. There was still some way to go, but he could make out Onix towering over the buildings in the distance.

He was stopped by Misty's arm snaking under his armpit. She traced her hand over his chest rhythmically, and Brock immediately sensed there was something very wrong about this.

"Brock," She whispered into his ear, standing on her toes. Brock began to sweat nervously – this was definitely wrong. "Do you want to screw me?"

Pulling free and spinning away, Brock clenched his dark brow. "What?"

Rubbing her collarbone and sternum, Misty cocked her hips in a fashion she never did. Her eyes were somewhere between daring and pleading – a sort of look that seemed wrong on the face of a girl he'd known since she was twelve.

"Do you want to screw me?" She repeated, sounding out each word in such a way as to draw attention to her lips. Brock felt like vomiting.

"No." He said bluntly. "What's wrong with you?"

Her alluring pose was abandoned and she snapped up straight to a more comfortable stance – offended and furious. "Why not!?" She demanded, stamping her foot like a kid.

Brock regarded the Water Master carefully. The times he had learned of his family member's various deaths, he had done some pretty whacked things out of grief – was this some sort of way of working through her loss and betrayal? Carefully, he opened his mouth and explained.

"Because you mean something to me."

Sighing and growling simultaneously, Misty stabbed a finger into Brock's chest. "That is just like you!" Leaping away suddenly, she lashed out with a foot, slamming it hard into Brock's stomach. It was like kicking a boulder, and he didn't even shift. "People normally want to bang the girls that are precious to them!" She piled a sequence of punches into Brock's throat and face, but he only reacted by lifting his head to look over her fists. "But you only want to do the ones who are nothing but casual lust!"

Snatching her pale fist from the air, Brock looked into Misty's face. The rough, stubborn yet girlish woman he knew was never this vulgar. This definitely was a trick. The doppelganger twisted her hand free and drove an elbow into Stone-Baron's solar plexus.

Looking down at where she had struck, Brock knew for sure that the woman in front of him was false – this fake could hit as hard as Misty, but when the real thing hit... it hurt.

-- --

Tracey didn't want to go back. Partially it was because he was still aching in his heart and head – she was gone, she was gone, his flower. Why should he risk himself for this land when there was nothing left here for him to defend? He should just go home to the Orange Islands, to a place where reality wasn't so stark.

The other motivation not to return was that he didn't trust himself not to catch a bullet on purpose. He was too desperate to be truly valuable in a fight.

He had been at the front of the attack, possibly for exactly the reason he shouldn't have been, right in the thick of the Airborne's spray of bullets. Driven by animal instinct, he had run for cover down a side street, only to find himself suddenly transported to a road far away, the sound and smell of war separated by the thick veil of distance.

Since then he had merely circled in a daze, carbine gripped loosely from the barrel and dragged behind his feet. How had he come here? Why? Did it even matter?

Halting, he stared at the crude asphalt. _Did anything matter?_ A voice said into his mind._ Was there any point to all this hell and torture and revenge and murder and oh god she is gone, she is gone..._ _my dear flower_.

Dragging himself to a nearby store front, he stared at his indistinct reflection in the mirror. Unclear as it was, he could still make out his dour expression, his daggy hair, his protruding stomach – all the signs of his imperfection. What about him could possibly have attracted her to him? She was beautiful, perfect, and secretly clever.

And Ash killed her, Tracey's daisy sticking out of the tip of this dung-heap called Kanto.

"God is mad." He said aloud, staring into his dry, red eyes. "We're all mad. What the hell am I doing?"

As he said as much, the smell of cigarette smoke poked his nose. Tiredly turning his head, he saw Snap. The sniper was standing just down the road, smoking with his gun cradled in his arm.

"Oh." Tracey said without power. "Didn't see you there."

Without speaking, the mercenary stood up straight and dropped his cigarette. Grinding it out, he raised his rifle and pointed it immediately at the Watcher. Blind, animal instinct sent Tracey barrelling inside, shattering his reflection.

-- --

Viridian Gym hadn't seen too much change since the days of Gary's youth. Staring up at the structure, it still had the colonnades and pillars in Greco-Roman style. However, someone with tar and an abundance of Far'fetchd had spent several days sticking feathers into every corner, crack and hole over the building, making it looked like a half-plucked bird.

Eevee shook his head. "Ee-_vee_!" Gary had to agree – it was ugly as a Snubull's nose.

There were no guards, which seemed natural given the fight was over the other side of the city. It was probable that no one was inside, but Gary had reasoned that if he was going to meet up with the others, the Gym was the obvious place to converge.

"Come on." He said, waving his pokémon onward. "Let's see if there's anything worth nabbing from inside."

Followed up the stairs by his dog, Gary harboured a secret agenda – he was hoping that there would be an old Earth Badge lying around. It wasn't the same as winning it in a fight, but the thought of shoving it in Ash's face was amusing. Pushing the heavy doors open, he peered into the darkness.

"Ee." Came a comment from his feet.

"Yeah, I figured no one would be around." Gary replied. "Let's find a light, hey?"

Sliding around the gilded doors, he felt along the wall until his hand contacted a cable bolted into the wall. Tracing it up, he found a box with a large switch on it. On went the switch, and generator's hum pumped electricity through the Gym floodlights.

Illumination revealed the Gym to be poorly maintained and messy. Drink and food refuse littered the floor; though feathers sprinkled everywhere suggested that the Airborne still had some use for the place.

"Ha, look at that!" Gary said, pointing to the new feature hanging in the middle of the room. It was a giant globe carved out of stone, made in a classical style that suggested it was added in the Pre-Falkner epoch.

Nodding appreciatively at the planet suspended from the roof, Gary wondered if there was an Atlas around to bear its weight. Memories of when he had faced Mewtwo in battle at this Gym came to his mind, and how the towering psychic had so easily overcome Oak. Grimacing at his defeat, Gary figured the genetically-engineered monstrosity would make as good a titan as anyone.

"Hey," Gary announced, tapping his feet on the ground to grab Eevee's attention. "Let's check out the stadium."

Beneath the stone globe was a pit, where the Gym-battles took place. Challengers would enter through another entrance and come out down in the pit, while the imperious Gym-Leader would stare down from above, with whatever spectators cared to watch. Crossing the filthy floor, Gary mused nostalgically over the past, when the people of Viridian had offered him leadership of this Gym after their Gym-Leader turned out to be an organised crime lord. At the time Gary had refused the mantle of the Earth badge, with views for higher things.

"You think I should have taken up leadership here?" He asked his pokémon, who looked up. "Back when Gyms weren't so political?"

Eevee bobbed his head in consideration before shaking his head definitively. "Vee."

Gary chuckled. "Yeah, I agree."

The smile on his face melted off as he came up to the edge of the pit beneath the world. Eevee was shorter and took a moment further to see the mirth-obliterating sight.

Churning, rolling – at the bottom, flooding the arena for pokémon battles was a huge purple blob like a thick swimming pool. It shifted and flexed in living fashion, burping up glugging noises like wet play dough. Staring down at the amoeba-like entity, it wasn't so much fear as surprise at a new sight that held Gary and his companion.

"Eeeee..." the dog commented. "Ee veee. Ee."

"Well..." He acknowledged. "It's new, that's for sure."

Things got stranger when driblets slurped off the giant blob. As the smaller purple bodies climbed up the sides of the arena, Gary and Eevee stepped back to accommodate them, slightly dazzled by the circumstances. The small portions clambered over the edge and crawled into a circle around the pair. Then they began to shift.

Eevee cocked his head, marvelling as the blobs changed shaped. Growing taller, they produced short limbs from below, pointed ears emerging from what must have been craniums. Then, as one, they took on a brown colour.

"Ah, I see." Gary said, snapping his fingers. He and his faithful pup were surrounded by Eevees. "Dittos."

Drawing his long sword from its sheath, Gary watched as Eevee assessed his clones appreciatively. He drew too close to one, peering at its mane, and it snapped its jaws at him. Smirking, Eevee withdrew back to his master's side.

"Imposter!"

Gary looked around at the sudden intrusion of a human voice. There was a tall person behind them, coming up fearlessly through the Eevee dogs, who parted before the newcomer. Oak was initially impressed that this challenger had remained undetected for so long, but then he got a better look.

She was quite clearly a girl except... she was dressed like Gary. That is, Gary before he got his new set of duds – she had the long gray shirt and brown boots. In her hands was a long sword and hanging from her shoulders an AK-47. Crowning her head was a spiked wig, the same red-brown as his own hair. With discomfort and jealousy he even noticed a green and yellow ying-yang necklace set between her bound-down breasts.

"Ah..." Gary opened, somewhat uncertain how to proceed. "I think you've stolen my look, hey?"

The strange woman raised her sword and pointed at the pair. "Ditto, attack!"

Eevee sprang far to the other side of the room, drawing the mass attack of look-alikes from his master's side. Having securing Gary's safety from massed pokémon attack, Eevee was quickly lost in a cloud of identical dogs. Left with his pantomime, Gary scratched his head.

She lunged forward and slashed with her sword, and Gary parried while working on his itch. He figured that he could just shoot her now, but curiosity was getting to him. Why was this girl trying to be him? Was she some sort of obsessed fan? Apparently they could get violent – but he hadn't had fans since he dismissed his cheerleaders. Warding off the incoming blade, he squinted his eyes and tried to recall the girls' faces and names.

"What's your name?" Gary asked as he put a palm to the woman's elbow and spun her around. Regaining her footing, she put up her sword and sneered. It was strange that she had forgone the Kanto tradition of puffing up one's name and titles before any act of fisticuffs.

"I am Gary Oak!" She declared in all seriousness.

Sighing, Gary shook his head. This was going to be weird.

-- --

Brock wasn't fighting as hard as he should have. Largely taking the false-Misty's blows on the chin, he would cast out a lazy punch every so often, but the red-haired fake would dodge in her impassioned movement. He would have to confess that what she was saying sounded like it was worth hearing.

"Face it!" She screamed, kicking up into Brock's chest exactly as Misty might. Brock didn't budge, but advanced through the blow, forcing the woman off-balance. Stumbling backward, she hissed and took a stance again. "At best the people of Kanto are a pair of tits to you."

Wincing a little at the language, Brock shook his head. Even if this wasn't really Misty, she was so perfect a facsimile that it still stung to hear those words on her lips. Was this what it was like being a parent with foul-mouthed kids?

"That's not fair." He calmly replied. "I appreciate beauty, maybe to excess, but I'm protecting everyone."

A small white fist clipped Brock's nose, and the Crumble-Heart marvelled at how the League had managed to track down such a talented actress who was Misty's exact size and shape. And when did she have time to study the real thing? Perhaps that nigh-invisible Koga took notes – he had yet to show his face, as was his style.

Frustration at her ineffective attacks showed on the woman's face, and she stepped back to regroup. "Tsh." She spat dismissively. "You keep everyone you really care about as far from the fighting as possible – face it, you're selfish."

Brock almost laughed. "What?" He said, chuckles escaping with the word. He spread his arms expressively. "Do you think I'm going to get a girlfriend out of all this?" _Though now that I think about it..._

Frowning violently, 'Misty' rushed forward again, winding up a wide hook. Brock had seen his Misty inflict this attack on a thousand unfortunate foes, and easily slipped around and hooked the fake's arm. Pulling the writhing doppelganger into a tight hold, Brock decided to see if her hair was a wig or dyed. Taking a handful of the orange bristles, he pulled.

The hair _squished_. Letting go in shock, Brock backed away as the woman staggered forward. He could still see the hand-print in her head, like it was made of clay.

"Woah..." Brock uttered at the bizarre sensation. The creature wearing Misty's skin turned around and glared at him. Under her glare, the Rock Master tried to understand what was happening when suddenly it hit him. "No way, a Ditto. I thought they couldn't do humans..."

He also thought that they couldn't talk, save for the irritating chorus of 'Dit, Ditto'. The human-moulded pokémon had calmed down and refrained from fighting for now. Brock was still a little disturbed by the thought of a shape-shifter wearing Misty's face, even as his hand's impression was slowly returning to shape.

"You're in this for yourself." The Ditto said with Misty's lips. Brock decided to hear the transformer out – this pokémon, or perhaps its trainer, must have been watching them for sometime. The formless creature had some interesting insights into his personality, and Brock was grimly curious as to where it was going with all this. "You're just ashamed that the reason you fight is nothing noble – this is about you and Ash."

The mention of the 'A-word' squished Brock's heart like a stress ball. Reacting emotionally, he stepped forward and pointed wildly, losing his composure. "This is not about Ash!" He shouted, the name he despised defiling his tongue.

Ditto's Misty-eyes did not waver in their accusation. "Immature twerp." She spat.

Brock clenched up in rage – he had taken care of this girl and that sick, backward, _traitorous_ brat like a mother for _years_! How dare she call him a little kid! But reality steadied his reaction, and took the blow in the heart. Calming himself with deep breathes, he decided to be honest, especially as no one was _really_ around. And he wanted to see if the Ditto's thunderous truth would break his stony defence.

"Okay, fine." He admitted grudgingly. "It _is_ about Ash. And I have issues with women. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

As Brock suspected, the pokémon was not done. Misty melted away like a candle, and then was sculpted with an invisible hand. Her form heightened, the hair lengthened and the chest grew. And grew.

Recognising the purple silhouette as it took form, Brock hung his head and groaned pitifully. He should have guessed – did this creature see directly into his soul? Whoever trained Ditto knew what they were doing.

Colour bled into the statue, whitening the skin and darkening the hair. Perfect detail came to the drooping eyes behind the spectacles, and the breasts rounded to the correct size to the absolute millimetre – Brock knew. Screwing up his courage, he opened his narrow eyes and faced his hurt. Clenching his fists, he looked _her _straight in the eye.

Hip swung to the side with dominant sexuality, smiling across patronisingly at that little boy Brock was the terror he left in the Orange Islands, Professor Ivy.

-- --

"Shut up shut up shut up!" Misty screamed, swinging her steel mallet wildly. Brock, although big and stocky, moved out of range easily. Mad, Misty wove her weapon back and forth, snapping a tree and sweeping leaves, but never hitting her target.

Brock kept his expression level. "Do you want to kill him?" He repeated, stoking up more of Misty's wrath.

"I said SHUT UP BROCK!" She repeated, hefting her hammer over her shoulder and bringing it down on her friend. Brock stepped back to a safe distance, and the head of the weapon buried in the grass and soil.

_Oh no, I'm crying again..._ Misty moaned to herself as her vision drowned. Her strength suddenly abandoned her, and she tugged uselessly at the shaft of her weapon.

Brock didn't know when to shut up though, probing further in an irritatingly even voice. "He's killed millions. He's had _you_ kill thousands." He pointed out, his slit-eyes unseeable. Misty was blind with ruffled grief. "And for what? A stupid dream."

Misty's arms failed her and she leant on her mallet's handle, wishing it could pierce through her chest and end it. Brock was still like a stone, with about as much pity.

"He killed your sisters." He continued, waiting a moment for Misty's hacking sob. "Why? Jealousy."

Rage visited her again, and Misty tore her weapon free, reeling it back for another thunderous assault. Stone-Baron wasn't going to let her, though, and stepped forward and grabbed her hands. Without the inertia, Misty didn't have the fortitude to hold the heavy weapon up, and let it drop to the ground.

Leaning up close, his olive skin hover over her pale, Brock put more force into his words. "After all that, aren't you going to kill him when you see him?"

Fusing her teeth, Misty tried to twisted out and escape the questions she didn't want to hear, much less answer. Brock held her tight.

"You can't leave him, that's why you're heading to the Plateau, not away from it." Crumble-Heart urged, demanding a response that wasn't a physical blow. "So what are you going to do? Call it anything; vengeance, justice, therapy."

Wriggling futilely, Misty's turned her misty eyes away and silently demanded of heaven that she be freed. Brock wasn't about to let the angels interfere and lifted her off her feet, pressing her nose into his eyeless face. "Or are you going to let him be?" He demanded.

Pulling her face out of her friend's spittle-loaded breath, Misty coiled back and lashed forward with a bone-snapping headbutt. His hands cracked open like unlocked chains and he staggered back.

"I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M GOING TO DO!!" She shouted, more at herself than at Brock. Wiping her eyes, she looked up and saw what she had done to the old Pewter Gym-Leader. There was a crater in his face, an imprint of Misty's head that had stamped into it like a seal on wax. Gawking for a moment, the Water Master swiftly snapped up her hammer. "That's not Brock..." she realised.

Bubbling up, the pretend-Brock's face slowly restored itself. When it had come fully back to form, it smiled at her before opening its eyes wide. Misty gasped at seeing Brock's pupils, but her stomach gave way when she saw that they were the exact shape and colour of Ash's.

Dark skin pulling away from around the eyes, Brock's face was drawn behind to reveal the whiter skin beneath, the round, soft jaw of Ash Ketchum. His heavy clothes rolled away and exposing a black shirt and jeans beneath. As the monster's dark hair clawed forward into the careless spikes that haloed Misty's husband, some of the strands wove into a dark baseball cap, the symbol of the league on the front.

Throat clogging, Misty stared in terror at her Ash, who stared at her with a blank, questioning look. He was asking something with his eyes, but there was so much he could be questioning that Misty couldn't guess at what. Knees shivering, Misty collapsed onto the grass.

"Mist-?" he started softly, extending his gloved hand, and the red-head saw it as the one that brought down the executioners axe on her sisters.

"Stay away!" She screamed, pushing upward with rage more than strength. Hammer arching towards her husband's skull, she didn't balk from throwing lethal force behind the steel head.

The Great Kanto Trainer moved out of the way with minimal effort, as Misty knew he would. Sloppily tossing killing blows at her oldest friend and dearest lover, she had absolute faith in her inability to touch Ash. He continued to evade death with calm and ease. She was good, very good, but Ash was perfection – he was the Chosen One, sealed against disaster by skill and fate.

All at once, he stopped moving, and Misty could see that her hammer would catch him directly in the temple. Desperate to stop the attack landing, she dug her shoes into the earth and pulled at the swinging mallet's path. Throwing every once of strength, passion and weight into redirecting the weapon, she succeeded in sending its path high over Ash's head – the Champion didn't flinch. Twirling uncontrollably, she was tossed by her own weapon into the ground, her knees and hammer in the soil and grass at Ash's feet.

Chest clenching in a lust for sobs, but without the tears to yield, she could only convulse. _So stupid... I'm so stupid._ Staring at the flawless facsimile of her husband's favourite sneakers, she could only scold herself for reacting so extremely to a fake. Even worse was the hateful truth that was revealing itself to her.

"I love you." She admitted as though confessing a sick crime. Leaving her mallet on the ground, she slowly reached out and hugged the denim pants of her husband's imitation. The idol didn't react. Gritting her teeth into his clothes, she went on. "How could I kill you? God forgive me, I can't do it..."

-- --

Snap had his rifle close to eye as he swung its long barrel around the street, sharp eye scanning every window. Masterfully keeping tabs on every opening in the buildings, and every movement across the street, the grim-eyed sniper was fully prepared for any slip-up from his quarry.

"Give it up." The mercenary shouted out, his cigarette-worn voice grinding the walls. He hated it when he lost track of targets – he was a little obsessive about finishing jobs. "There's only one discount for missed shots. There's no hope anyway."

Hiding inside the window of a florist, Tracey kept his head deep of the window frame, but his ears were tracking all the tiny queues that traced his would-be assassin's movement down the streets, even through the distant din of battle. His experience as a Pokémon Watcher had shown him how to cut out irrelevant noise and focus entirely on his subject. Hand twitching, Sketchit felt the normal urge to draw out a map of Snap's actions.

_No time, no time... _he pressed himself, silently creeping through the store, keeping his shape hidden among the flowers and hooking his carbine up to his bicep. Military training had taught him how to move unnoticed – to be seeing and unseen – and his skills had saved him from taking one of Snap's assorted bullets.

"What the hell's the point?" Snap shouted out again, presumably trying to goad the Watcher into making a mistake. "Why bother waiting? We all end up dead anyway." Rolling his tongue over his teeth, the sniper let his eye drift from the scope for a moment. "Your girl's dead, right? What other reason do you have for being here?"

As the words reached him, Tracey froze up mid-slink. Instinctively crouching down to avoid detection, he mulled over Sniper's words. It was unclear why his former ally suddenly wanted to kill him – perhaps the League had made a better offer? – but the Resistance soldier couldn't help but think that he had a point.

Grief plastered over with adrenaline, Tracey's thoughts still wallowed in the self-destructive. Was there any reason to live now she was gone? He had tried to play hero, but all he really wanted was to be happy. Happiness was dead along with his love – why not complete the set and become dead too?

Outside, Snap saw that the artist still hadn't budged, so set his eye back to the scope and spoke more banter.

"Ain't that just the way it is?" He bemoaned, his tone full of false-sympathy. "You start cobbling together something like a good life and then – _SNAP!_" He lifted a hand from the rifle to snap his fingers in time. "It's all gone."

Tucked amid the flowers, Tracey could feel the darkness weight upon him, pushing him low.

The mercenary maintained his observant watch of the street. "That's life." Proposed the gunman, seriousness in his voice. "Starts as nothing, goes to nothing – there's no escape from the bullet in the end. _Snap_ – and then nothing." All sense of smarminess had gone from the marksman's tone. "No happiness, but no grief, huh?"

Crazy from fear and sadness and war and life, Tracey seriously, of even mind, considered standing up and receiving the twisted gift that Snap promised to deliver between his eyes – an empty, pointless universe. And if there was no justice, was there then no pain?

Staring across the floor, Tracey saw a vase of daises had been knocked over, spreading the stalks across the ground. It had probably happened during Viridian's evacuations, and since then the water had dried and the daisies shrivelled. Heedless of whether the shooter outside would detect him, Tracey reached out and picked one of the dead flowers.

_We're all a bit like flowers,_ He noted. _We die just as easily, cut off from water. Who am I kidding? There is no water._

Bracing his knees to stand up and take Snap's final drug, Tracey experienced a strange miracle. In between his fingers, the flower stood upright, life coming back into its leaves. Its petals brightened and unfurled, spreading like tiny sails in a strong wind. Fear grabbed him and he stared in awe. Throat choking for something to say, the Watcher blinked. When he opened his eyes, the plant was still alive.

_Am I seeing things?_ He immediately questioned his vision. _Maybe the flower was alive and I just thought it was dead..._

What ever had occurred, Tracey's eyes had come back to life, for sure. He stared at the daisy, and realised what a profound mystery it was. Rediscovered his artistic love, he remembered why he had drawn flowers and other petty things – because a flower was more than a flower. He drew to try and grab that wonderful, ineffable _thing_ beyond the petals – that was the artist's sacred mission.

_And if it's true of flowers..._ he reminded himself. _ Then how much more so for Life?_

Finely tuned ears snatching the faint scrape of Snap's shoes on the concrete, Sketchit turned his head and imagining he could see the sell-out spinning around with his precious gun to his eye. That coward had abandoned art for meaningless murder.

Tracey sneered. _Damn you to hell, photographer._ Kissing the daisy, he reformed his grip on his carbine and braced himself.

"I don't believe you." The Watcher stated firmly into the street. The sniper spun to the sound, focussing his gun into a store at ground level. Snap didn't immediately see anything Sketchit-shaped, but the gun stayed up and he carefully approached, looking for a good angle. "Life isn't nothing."

Saying this, Tracey jumped from his hiding spot – directly behind Snap. Squeezing his eyes and trigger, he fired into Snap's unprotected back. Apparently the sniper didn't know the artist could throw his voice.

Tracey wasn't nearly as good a shot as the mercenary, but several bullets from his sudden burst dug into Snap's flesh. As he staggered, Tracey pressed the advantage, coming closer and making sure every bullet met a mark, drilling his assailant into the street. Bleeding his ammunition dry, Sketchit automatically ejected the clip and slapped another into place.

"And I did it all for _free_, you tight-fisted bastard!" He shouted at his conquered opponent.

Even though Snap was a puddle on the ground, Tracey kept his weapon at the ready, as though his foe would burst back to shape at any moment. Catching his breath and recovering some sense, the Watcher looked closely at the sniper's remains. There was no blood, no guts... just flesh like liquid. That wasn't... normal.

Suddenly the pool jerked, and Tracey brought his hands to the level of his eyes. Staring in fascination, he watched as Snap's red hair turned to purple and crawled off like the beast from a B-grade horror.

The... thing shimmied down the street, and the Watcher's eyes went after it until it disappeared down a storm-water drain. Somewhat bereft of comment, Tracey tilted his head in confusion, bobbing his black hair. "Oh," he uttered, adjusting his red headband. "Okay."

-- --

It took a while, but eventually Snap figured out that this wasn't the _real_ Ash Ketchum he was fighting. The slick, fast movements that the look-alike made as he wove around the sniper's sights were believably skilful, and he looked exactly like in the pictures. But something wasn't right.

"Tsk." Snap emitted, once again losing the shape of his opponent in a twist of his black cape. They had been fighting in near-silence every since stumbling upon each other in the streets after the teleportation. In retrospect the mercenary should have questioned why the Champion himself would be all alone in an abandoned part of the city and far from the fighting, but having launched into this foolish dance so quickly, he really hadn't had the time to muse.

"Stay still, dammit!" He growled, breaking the chain of quiet. Jerking his rifle around, he settled his aim on the faux-Champion.

The moment he pulled the trigger, the fake moved, sweeping around Snap's flank and slashing out with the sword. Had it been the real Ash, Snap's guts would be warming his ankles, but as it was the sniper safely retreated several meters. If things went on like this, Snap's cigarette-melted lungs would tire before the model-of-fitness Great Kanto Trainer.

"This is damn ridiculous." Snap said aloud, and he wasn't just referring to his target's incredible ability to not be shot. There was something about the facsimile that was distinctly un-Ketchum-like, other than not being able to win. It was nagging the sniper.

'Ash' came in with his sword again, and Snap changed his grip and slammed the butt of his rifle into his attacker's jaw. He knocked his foe clean off his feet, sending his baseball cap flying. As the clone closed his eyes from the blow, Snap experienced an epiphany.

Pinning down 'Ketchum' with his foot, Snap wiped one hand on his striped shirt and used the other to hover his gun barrel over the caped man's face. "Eureka!" Snap announced, snapping his fingers. "_That's_ what's bugging me – you recognise me."

It was true – the clone was staring with fear passed the sniper rifle to the gunman behind him, the unmistakable knowledge of Snap's identity in his eyes. Pulling out a pack of cigarettes and setting out in his mouth, Snap was reassured, knowing that the real Ash Ketchum would never recognise his old companion.

"That's just it with you, ain't it?" Said the mercenary, indulging in the fantasy that it really was Ash he had underfoot. "You talked big to all us about 'friendship' and crap. But you would leave all your 'friends' behind, and just keep on with you little hikes and forget all about us. Like we were nothing."

Leaning forward, the sniper pressed the warm barrel of his gun against the pretender's forehead. The cigarette hung unlit from his lips.

"But guess what, Mr 'Champion'?" He went on in a gravelly tone. Discharging his weapon, he liquefied the clone's head. "You're nothing too." Turning away and lighting his smoke, Snap didn't stay to witness the body run purple and pour down the street like a spillage.

"I'm going to prove it." Snap said to the empty street, looking up towards the Plateau.

-- --


	27. The Earth 3

**Disclaimer**: I still don't own Pokémon, because Nintendo and 4kids still do.

-

**Grasping the Moon**

Chapter 27 – The Earth

Part 3

Ivy didn't say anything, just pulled up her chin arrogantly and smirked down at the little boy that she'd used and thrown away. Brock's thin eyes slid down the curve of her full hips and around her mountainous breasts with a hate flavoured with lust. He could see his miserable expression in the reflection of her glasses.

"Of course." He said aloud. "Who else would you torture me with?"

On the outside, Brock was sturdy – his knees didn't shake, nor did his face crack. But within the walls of stone, his heart was writhing. As his stomach burned and bubbled, he set his foot forth without the slightest trace of tremor, approaching the face that hung darkly over his youth.

As he came closer, close enough to lean forward and kiss her poisonously full lips, the Professor's idol bounced an eyebrow suggestively. Brock's face was hard.

"The Arch-bitch herself." Bitterly the words were spilling through his teeth. "I'm over you." He lied.

All those years ago, when she had seduced him and used him then tossed him away – it was still fresh to him. A sick woman, who used her overwhelming sexuality to have her way with teenagers – because she loved power. And when she'd had her kicks, they were thrown out into the islands without a place to go.

Where was Brock supposed to go? Certainly not home to his pathetic father who had abandoned him when life got hard, or his 'free-spirited' mother, who decided she was free from any responsibility to her family. The arms of another lover, someone he could give his heart to? Hell no!

The only place he had to go was to his friends, Misty and...

"So what's my lesson here?" Brock challenged the Ditto, using a stone will to keep the weakness within from crumbling his outward defences. "I can't trust because I was abused when I was a kid? Because this... _woman_ betrayed my innocence?"

Silently, the pokémon let Ivy's flesh dribble away, revealing another figure shorter than either Ivy or Brock. Groaning, Brock looked away. It was Ash – he was his current age, but he was wearing the same clothing as when they had first met – light denim, red and white bomber jacket, and a cap of the old League.

Forcing his vision to the sky, Brock immediately made the connection. Ivy betrayed his innocence, Ash betrayed his innocence. Rubbing his eyes, he couldn't help but find it a bit stupid.

"Ha." He laughed once, dropping his head and uncovering his eyes. "I get it now."

Taking a deep breath, Brock raised his head and stared into the eyes of the man he had trusted most. His eyes were still as innocent as they had been when he tenaciously challenged the Pewter Gym, or when he told Brock that he was going to 'capture' every city in Kanto and battle the whole world. The fear in Brock's gut was so intense that it actually shivered his unmoving outer shell.

"Is this the point?" He asked in a tight voice. The softness inside was pressing up through his eyes – something wet was running down his brown face. Strange, it didn't feel like he was crying. "That this is all about me and Ash, that I'm being petty?"

Even as Brock was proud of himself for saying the A-word without curling into a foetus, the clone nodded once. Nodding back in response, Brock wondered why the Ditto had attempted to tell him this. This was a League plot, it had to be.

But it was working so well... Brock's arms were moving by themselves, around to the pistol tucked into the back of his pants.

_Shoot him, _Brock said to himself. _This is what the League wants (shoot him) – they want you to go crazy and prove once and for all you're a vicious vengeful bastard with no right to save anyone. (Shoot him)_ His hands were brushing against the hard plastic of the firearm.

_If you shoot him, you lose to yourself. (Shoot him, SHOOT HIM)_ His fingers hooked around to settle around the weapon.

_If you let how Ivy or Ash or anyone hurt you _rule_ you, then_ _they really have beaten you._ The strange fight between his inside and outside was starting to blur the line between the two._ (Shoot him, he deserves it, and don't you have the right?)_

His large hands were almost around the handle of his pistol, but something was pulling them back, shaking them twitchingly. Brock's stony flesh only knew two laws – 1) Never hurt. 2) Break anything that tries to hurt you.

Inside it was different. His heart was so loud, shouting about the wars Ash started, but also the times they'd laughed together on the road. Ash handing Pewter Gym to that Johto trainer; Ash complimenting him on his cooking. Brock hovering over his sisters' graves, their brothers not far; Brock standing at the sidelines of a pokémon battle, dispensing advice to the young, starry-eyed trainer.

_Did you think you could beat me by hurting me, Ash?_ He thought in a rage, forcing his hands back by his sides. The shaking weakened as they were forced to their place, and as it happened, a strange brightness glowed from out of the chaos in his heart.

Ash had hurt him, and driven him to this madness – did the League really think the truth would break him? If there was one thing Brock could do, it was be honest with himself.

Reaching his hand back, with more ease this time, he indulged in a single slap across Ash's face. It was slick and squishy. The Ditto stumbled backwards, staring at Brock, as though confused as to why the trainer had attacked in such a controlled fashion, not spasmed in rage. Between the trails of tears, Brock managed a thin smile.

"You lose." He said, and some of the pain inside escaped with the words. Life still hurt like hell, but a flower of happiness had started to grow again in the soft soil inside – which was natural, how could it grow in solid rock? "Show me whatever you want – my dead brothers and sisters, Forrest's missing legs. Hell, why not Melissa?" He almost wished to see her dark, beautiful face again. "There's no point to your little play anymore."

After a long staring moment, the Ditto apparently agreed, emulsifying into purple mush and sinking down a stormwater drain. Smiling a bit broader, Brock stared up into the sky, between the tall Virdian towers as the tears continued down his face.

Feeling a little free, he drank in the triumphant silence for a second. He wasn't quite so heavy anymore. His emotional calluses had been removed a little, and he could feel the breeze brush over his soul.

"Ahhh..." he couldn't help to sigh. Maybe now he could let go of his selfish motivations and stop this League just because it was wrong, and it was the right thing to do.

"Wow..." he said, unused to the feeling of invincibility – not in hiding away his sensitivity behind an impenetrable wall, but it riding his vulnerability. How could the League, the world beat him? After all, he'd beaten himself.

-- --

Puzzling over this strange girl's identity had grown boring to Gary. Deciding to finish things off, he glanced over to where Eevee was in a mass brawl with dozens of copies of himself. Even Gary could only pick out his pokémon because it was the one the others were targeting with their unrelenting barrage of hyperbeams.

"This is getting old, Eevee!" Gary shouted out. Ears twitching, the pup bounded off the surface of the hanging globe and dashed forward in a burst of speed, bowling over a handful of his doppelgangers.

Bundling together his strength, the dog launched a massive hyper beam, the light burning light catching the entire party of look-alikes, incinerating them and puncturing a hole in the Gym wall. In the aftermath of the blast, the tumbling wind rolled the feathers on the floor through the air.

Hair washed with a gust from the fresh opening in the building, the woman stared in shock. "Ditto!" She cried in alarm.

_Ditto singular..._ Gary noted with a raised eyebrow. _Just one big Ditto, interesting._

The over-enthusiastic fan charged Gary anew, fresh with rage. She swung her sword, an exact replica of Gary's, and missed terribly. The failure didn't phase her, as she lifted her AK-47 to try and blow holes through Oak as she passed. Snorting, Gary patted away the barrel of the weapon.

"Please." He remarked. This woman had done a fairly good job trying to imitate Gary's fighting style, but she lacked actual experience. Plus, no one was as good at being Gary as Gary was.

Hammering a closed fist into the nameless woman's ribs, he sent her stumbling backwards awkwardly. Eyes on her feet, Gary saw that she was wearing mini-stilts to make up their height difference. Stupid, really.

Kicking low, Oak knocked a stilt from underneath the woman and sent her falling face first into the ground. As her nose kissed the floor, Gary efficiently kicked away her sword and pulled her rifle from her shoulder, stripping it of the magazine.

"Alright." Gary said with a huff, pointing his long sword at the woman's head. "_Now_ will you tell me who you are?"

"G-Gary Oak..." she stuttered, pushing herself up. Her wig had slipped, revealing algae-green hair.

The real thing was not impressed. "Shut up, who are you really?"

Raising her head hesitantly, Gary could see in her eyes a lost look. Her pupils shrunk and grew, and she couldn't focus on anything. Shaking, she drew up onto her knees. Hiding her face, she whispered. "Nobody."

Eevee was watching from a short distance, tracing the edge of the arena-pit. Gary shifted his jaw. "Nobody's nobody. What's your name?"

Hugging herself pathetically, the woman bent over, the wig falling from her head and letting her long green hair hang down like from the gardens of Babylon. "D-Duplica..." she answered, uncertain. "But who is Duplica? Who? Who?"

Gary had never heard of her, so turned his head and jerked his chin at Eevee. Picking up the order, the dog turned and blew some energy up at the hanging world. The stone surface cracked loudly and dropped from the ceiling in a great crash, squishing the giant Ditto in the pit. 'Duplica' flinched at the noise. Even as the globe shattered on the pokémon, Eevee set to work shooting holes in the roof to further bury the monstrosity in rubble.

For his part, the trainer flicked forward his sword and cut Duplica's head from her shoulders. As she fell to pieces, he turned to leave, shaking the blood from his blade. Taking a step forward, he felt something crunch under his shoe.

Lifting his foot, he saw a small trinket gleaming among the feathers and stone. Picking it up, he held it up to his eye to identify the piece. It was green, in the shape of a small plant, a beautiful sprout that had come to life the soft earth. When he got a close look at it, he let loose a light laugh.

"Well, there you go, hey!" He announced, Eevee coming to his side. He held up the Earth Badge in appreciation before pinning it to his black shirt. "I guess the only thing on Earth you need to conquer is yourself!"

-- --

Misty was still on her knees in the grass, squeezing the false-Ash's legs when she felt the denim change on her skin. The scraping quality faded, leaving a sensation like canvas trousers. Fearing what she'd see, she pulled back her head and opened her burning eyes.

Her hands spasmed in shock when she saw that Ash's dark denim had transmuted into a fierce purple. Moaning in pain, she dared to raise her eyes, just enough to see that the man she was clinging to had grown in height, his cap swallowed by mahogany spiked hair. Squeezing her eyelids, she drowned her face in the violet fabric, wishing to un-see what she had just seen.

Ditto wasn't so kind as to leave her tormenting herself. As Gary, the pokémon bent at the waist and set a caressing hand on Misty's orange hair. She quivered with pleasure and self-hatred.

"Stop it." She mumbled into Gary's pants making no move to resist. "I don't want to see this."

The hand on her head broke off, and she felt a sick thrill as it massaged down the back of her skull and hooked around her neck to sit on her shoulder. The mass shifted and grew heavier. At last, it settled on a form.

Cracking her eye slightly from the folds of the purple pants, she saw yellow fur and a black strip. Pikachu. The rat on her shoulder tapped at her ear patronisingly.

"Chu?" He preached self-righteously. "Pi kaaa chu?"

Staring blankly at the pokémon, Misty heard a translation form the lips of the Gary over her.

"'How could you betray your own mate?'" The Pallet trainer quoted, and some remanent of rationality inside Misty pointed out that Gary couldn't understand the thunder-mouse. "'Weren't you the one who killed your sisters?'"

Misty hid her face again. "That's not fair!" She whispered bitterly, secretly taking the accusation as gospel truth. "That's not fair!" She repeated.

Before the Ditto could bore deeper into the woman's suffering, the ground shook. The pokémon looked out, and even Misty looked up at the sound of a distant explosion. It came from a building in the distance, one in a Greco-Roman style. A hole had been driven through its wall, a beam of white light trailing out.

They stared for a moment before Misty glanced up at the Gary-imitation. The pokémon seemed distracted, not paying attention to her anymore. The Pikachu on her shoulder was the same way.

An extended silence passed, and the red-head wondered what was happening. She reached up a hesitating hand to touch the man over her, but just before her fingers touched, another shaking boom of an explosion rolled out from the damaged building. Gary and Pikachu jerked and shrieked. Misty flinched, and yelped as the Ditto suddenly exploded, showering her with purple goo.

Drenched and stained, there was only one thing Misty could do – she said, "Ew..."

A sudden chill shook her, and at first she wasn't sure if it was her grief or the wet goo, but it was neither. A purple mist cycloned up from the ground, twirling out the black grinning form of Morty's Gengar. Smoke clearing, the ghost hunter was magically brought back into the world, Brock, Tracey and Snap with him.

"Misty!" The thick Rock Master exclaimed, seeing his dear friend. She leant away haltingly, uncomfortable in her coating of ooze.

"Brock?" She asked, fearfully. "Is that really you?"

Laughing, though realising he shouldn't, Brock knelt down and dabbed a thick finger into the thick chunks on Misty's shoulder. Tracey knelt down next to him. Examining the purple residue, Crumble-Heart shook his head. "I see you met the Ditto problem too." He wiped his finger on his pants and looked Misty in the eyes. "I'm glad you're okay."

Misty was unconvinced. "'Okay'..."

"I swept through when I noticed that the League Psychic had teleported you all away." Morty explained as his Gengar hid in the shadows of his loose shirt, wrapping around his body like a chain. The droopy-eyed trainer looked apologetic, rubbing the back of his blonde hair. "I should have been a bit more on the ball – Probably spared you some strife in identifying fakes and everything."

Snap snorted as he lit up a cigarette and looked away. Brock turned and looked up at the Tomb-Raider. "So why weren't you taken as well?"

Morty shrugged casually, saying, "Ghosts and Psychics – they don't mix."

Tracey tightened his brow and stood upright, glancing around strangely. "Hey, anyone hear that?"

They others strained their ears, but heard nothing of note. Brock inquired, "What?"

"There's no sound of fighting." Tracey explained, narrowing his eyes. "The battle's over."

As one, the Resistance Leadership turned to look where the battle they had been stolen from had been raging. There was smoke in the air, and the red light of fires, but they could see the shadows of League birds fleeing the site. The Resistance had won.

-- --

Bugsy pulled at his Ledian mount's antennae roughly, driving his pokémon to carry him further from the field of defeat. "Gah, dammit!" He shouted to himself, directing his bug to barge through the fleeing Airborne wingmen.

"The geek's going to be pissed." The Bug Master growled, pulling the gasmask from his face and tossing it aside, to fall to the street below.

Nothing had gone to plan. Even without their hard-hitters, the Rebels had proven a difficult fight. They had taken cover under the buildings, forcing the Airborne trainers to take their pokémon down to their level, effectively neutralising their main advantage and preventing Bugsy from using his gas properly. The bird pokémon's flapping would just blow away the gas when that near.

Further, there were some shockingly strong pokémon among the Rebels – he wondered why the League had never found out about that Blastoise, or that Scizor...

"Now I'm going to have to explain this to the spoon-bender." _Or worse, the Champion_. Misplacing his anger, Bugsy swatted at a nearby Virdian Airborne pilot with the nozzle of his gas weapon. "Hurry up, you!" The bug collector ordered the soldier forced to abandon his home. "We've got to get back to the rendezvous point!"

His swarm of insects following, Bugsy led the route homeward. Frowning savagely, he could only curse the unseen things in the air. "What a waste..." He grumbled. To think that he didn't even get the chance to eye-up the Champion's old girl...

-- --

Will had been monitoring the battle psychically from where he had been seated on a rock. Grimacing as he saw that the Viridian Airborne had failed to cause too many losses to the Rebel Army, and further irritated by the death of Duplica, the new Viridian Gym-Leader, without successfully mentally crippling a single key member of the Rebellion, he was forced to write off the entire operation as a failure.

_If I didn't know who would eventually come out on top,_ he said to himself, closing the book of Lt Surge's notes on his lap. _I'd have teleported far away by now._

He was outside the opening of Victory Road, in a thin patch of grass just near the cave's abyssal opening. The open air discomforted him, as he would much prefer to be inside, but he was waiting for a reason. Plus it was growing late – hopefully the new arrivals would be here soon. Sliding off his rock, he picked up Surge's notebook and stretched.

"I wonder if I should kill Bugsy for his failure." He said aloud, tracking the Bug Master as he began his flight inevitably back to the League palace. The principle was weak, but he really just wanted to kill the Bug Master because he hated the creep, and the thought that the sleazy insect had survived this long in the war when trainers like Janine had died – that really got to him. "I suppose we need the men, though..."

Marching sounds rained from the distance, fast approaching his position, steel drums and brass instruments lacing tunes around the rhythmic pound of feet. The ones he was waiting for were finally arriving.

Teleporting the book from his hands to his quarters, Will engaged in a bit of movement as the marching troops approached. He had been sitting a lot lately, and needed some exercise.

Rows of gray-clad men followed the road into sight, lined in perfect marching order, as if they were fresh from boot camp. The young fighting men of the Pewter Iron Guard were all clad in crisp, immaculate uniforms, their useless spears at their sides. Frankly, Will was so desperate for reinforcements that he wouldn't have cared if they were armed with spit balls.

_Of course_, he reminded himself. _There were plenty of guns up in Indigo City now._

Waiting patiently as the various units of men filed into the clearing before him, the psychic saw the marching band he had heard weaving into position as well. There were also some less well-drilled (if more combat-worthy) men in red that had the bearing of much-trialled auxiliaries – the Lost Boys of Cinnabar.

Spectacles scanning for sight of the Iron Guard's unshakable leader, Will finally saw her appear. She was carried forth on a throne cast from bronze, mounted on the shoulders of some unfortunate Iron Guardsmen and their Magnemites. Coiled around the rear was the colossal form of a Steelix, its metal face guarded by a strong defensive plate – even in the dying light, the reflective surface of the metal snake glowed like a false moon.

Hoisted to the ground, the deceptively slight woman dismounted and approached the Saffron Gym-Leader. Her hair was long and held in place by imperial wings at her temples, and she carried herself with the untouchable fragility of the truly elite. While pretty to look at, it was clear she had an iron heart. Jasmine, the Gym-Leader of Pewter City.

"Good to have you with us." Will commented, though he didn't smile. Jasmine, known as Pounder, All-Smith, Forger, Idol-Caster, and the Iron Maiden – she had been sitting silently in place as the civil war waged around her, refining Pewter into a production base, aiming to have the sound of beaten anvils so loud that it carried the her name up to the heavens. Only now had she shown her face.

"Greetings, Fair-Tongue." She said in an efficient if elevated tone. "I have come to put my strength into the League's armament."

Eyes drifting over her troops, fresh men, some with a little war-shaped experience, Will had to admit it was a sweet sight. However, the Iron Maiden wouldn't come to the League's aid this late in the game, especially when it was so obviously at the disadvantage, without a price.

Thought-Poet set his eyes on the woman. "The Champion thanks you. But how can he repay such a display of loyalty...?"

A small smile melted Jasmine's steely face, and the Gym-Leader waved her hand overhead in a display of rhetoric exuberance. The giant Steelix throwing a shadow over her thin master added an element of intimidation. "A statue." She demanded. "Of me, one hundred feet high, so that I may be worshipped and remembered for all time. And," she added, touching her chin conspiratorially. "Produced entirely by the forges and factories of Pewter City."

Will stared a moment, wondering if she had completed her request – such a project would be ridiculously expensive, especially if the League was to rebuild Kanto. When Argonaut saw that she had finished, he almost laughed, but forced control on himself.

_A statue?_ He mused, thinking of the old king Ozymandes. _Obviously she doesn't realise that empires and kingdoms and idols crumble easily and are forgotten even more easily. History erases all._

Flicking a hand, he acquiesced to her price. "Done!" He said aloud, thinking in his mind; _Let her have her statue!_ "Now let's get everyone through the tunnels and to the city." He looked over the new troops he had to play with, but his eyes gravitated back to distant Viridian. "The Rebels won't waste time getting here."

-- --

In one of Indigo's many dining halls, Ash had made camp. Even so deep into the night as this, he was mechanically working through bottles of wine. It was amazing – he never really drank much in the past, but now suddenly guzzling alcohol like water, he barely seemed drunk. Not even stalwart Pikachu could keep up, coiled in sleep near his master's elbow.

May, of course, was up and watching, dragged along, cowed and whipped like a damn pokémon. She leaned on the wall behind Ash, staring pathetically, but careful to keep her distance, thinking of the bandage on her stinging cheek.

_I'm so hopeless,_ she said to herself, watching Ash sip more red as he stared at the far wall. _Was I the one hooking him, or has he hooked me?_

Ash had less static, defensive feel to him as when he had attacked May yesterday. He was softening, weakening. _Now is the perfect opportunity to get him, _she concluded, though she couldn't peel her heavy body from the wall. _If I go for it now, I can get him, I know it._

But she just didn't want to anymore. When he slit her skin, he shocked some sudden sense into the girl. Rubbing her eyes, she looked up, out the tall windows and saw the full moon peering through, giving her a sharp look to really assess what had happened to her life.

_We used to be friends..._ she thought in regards to the Great Kanto Trainer in front of her, thinking about 'May's Expedition', when she, Ash, Brock and Max had adventured together across the world. _What happened to us?_

She couldn't quite place the point when Ash stopped being a human being, one she knew and loved, and became a potential sexual conquest, an obsession. Did that transformation of view coincide with the changes that had driven her from her friends, her brother? From Drew? Look at her – she was once a little girl who just wanted to travel the world, and now she was a general in a military dictatorship, throned deep in misery.

Making a snivel like a laugh, she closed her eyes and massaged her head with the butt of her hands. This was so idiotic – May was what every woman wanted; profoundly beautiful. Ash was what every man wanted; profoundly strong. Why could neither of them be happy?

"Hey," Ash said suddenly. May looked up to hear the first words he'd spoken in many hours. His voice was hoarser than usual, but wobbled a bit, revealing that he was at least affected by his drink. The Chosen One stared at the wine, clearly distant. May said nothing for fear of preventing her old friend from talking.

"When I was young." He started, then hunched a bit. "Really young, when I only knew Gary." He clarified, suggesting that he was at least a bit aware of May's presence. Ash was speaking to her now, even after it all? Something good bloomed in her heart, and it was nothing like lust or ambition.

"Back then, there was this guy." Ash went on, staring up at the ceiling. "He was a, y'know, a drunk. Everyone in Pallet knew him." Head rolling, his bleary eyes fell on Pikachu, whose ribs grew and shrank from sleeping breath. He softly caressed the very tip of the mouse's tail, not want to wake his friend with his affection.

Signing heavily, Ash went on, saying, "Anyway, I was walking, and I ran into this guy." Abandoning his wineglass, Ash waved his hand weakly in the air. "He started talking, and told me all this stuff. You know, drunk stuff."

May was leaning in, drawn by the tale Ash was telling, wondering what significance it had in his heart. She wanted to know him again, not as a handsome slab of meat, but as a person, a loyal friend.

"He told me one thing." Ash said, getting to the centre of the piece. "He said that Pokémon Masters, the very best ones – when they die, they'd go to the moon." He purposefully kept his eyes from the window, staring instead inside the dark dining room. "And up there, if they were really great and really good, they would get to have a pokémon battle." His eyes went glassy. "With God."

There was silence, and May's heart burned, her head craved to be by Ash's side. The Champion's head dropped and he laughed at himself.

"Kind of a stupid story, huh?" He admitted drunkenly, and a lobotomised Wobbuffet could see he didn't really think that at all.

May was filled with only one desire – to reach out and hug Ash, squeeze him until all the hurt and disillusion and every nasty, terrible thing had been forced out of him. She wanted it to be pure, without lusts or Leagues or bitchy competition – just her comforting her friend in all his woe.

But she couldn't – after everything, she didn't have the right to even step towards him. She could only hope that when Ash got the moon, God would do it for her.

-

-

**Author's Notes:**

I could have had a lot more fun with clones, but length is length. I was originally going to have Arcanine melt Ditto, but he was, ah, left at the battle. Oops.

Can't say its worth many points if you guess who Tracey's girlfriend is. And Tracey vs Snap would have been better if I had introduced the voice-throwing thing earlier in the story.

As for Brock... I think maybe he hasn't acted that consistently with the problems I ascribed to him here, but... eh. But I guess I don't want to make the effects of abuse look light... geez, maybe I'm over-stressing.

The next chapter's going to be BIG, so I might break it up for faster uploading. However, college is busy, so... we'll see.

Please Read and Review!

This is what I like to see – plenty of reviews!

**RedheadtheGirl:** Oh, there have been spelling mistakes. But I went back and corrected that one, just for you! The Iron Maiden – Gym-Leader of Pewter, I've mentioned her already, though, admittedly she's done pretty much nothing so far. Ahhh, if you're reading this, you've already found out.

And it may be sad for you that this is finishing, but I'll be glad to finally have it all done. I guess that's a good tension to have between reader and writer. 

**Doxkid:** And somehow you saying as much feels so much more satisfying than beating the Elite Four. Thanks!

**HomeBeforeDark: **Wow! Such a long review, I love it! Only seventeen... geez, I feel ancient.

I'll let you in on a secret – I actually only remember the more prominent characters. When I developed the plot, I made sure to include all the gym-leaders etc from Kanto, and then started dragging them in from elsewhere, particularly Johto, since I played Pokemon Silver version. After that, I needed to plug holes and so forth, and basically ran searches on Bulbapedia (I figured there'd be a Pokémon wiki). I can't tell you how helpful the categorisations of pokémon by type are! "Oh geez, I need a grass type I haven't done to death – search time!"

I remembered Ritchie, though. With loathing. Hissss...

(And I knew nothing about May or Dawn until, like, a year or two ago... I began writing without ever seeing them on TV!)

Ash's getting lost thing is from the show – he and Brock always got lost. It was a minor running gag. I hoped to make it half-way meaningful here, in Misty's "why do all the men in my life get me lost?" but, y'know.

Thank you for your praises and comments!

**Coco-chan380:** And in the end, isn't awesome all we really want? I'm glad you dig the Ash interpretation. Thank you, Good Sir/Ma'am!


	28. Beneath the Dream 1

**Disclaimer**: I still don't own Pokémon, because Nintendo and 4kids still do.

-

**Grasping the Moon**

Chapter 28 – Below the Dream

Part 1

Gary hesitated when he saw Tracey crouching over Scyther's body. Even in the bustle of the field hospital – a site as maddeningly furious as the battle it was trying to patch up – the trainer's dipped head and the blanket drawn over the old Scyther's head were enough markers to stay clear. Grief had a defensive quality of its own – it repelled with such force that it took concerted effort to push through.

"Eeee..." Eevee quietly urged, and at the dog's prompting Gary piled up his courage and pierced through the traffic of nurses to his friend's side.

Coughing didn't raise the Watcher's head, so Gary crouched down to his level. Scyther was beginning to smell – Gary could see the dip in the blanket were the bug-type's chitin had proved too long-lived and failed to take the force of a bullet.

Eevee coiled around Sketchit's bent legs, moaning in canine fashion and mourning with the trainer. Gary observed his pokémon and wondered how he could contribute – but anything he could say would sound flat. Tracey had lost both his girlfriend and one of his oldest pokémon in short order.

Silence wasn't possible, though, and so Gary opened his mouth. "You doing okay?" If Gary wasn't so used to being an insensitive jerk, then he wouldn't have been able to bear how thin those words sounded.

At length Tracey nodded, and rubbing his weakening eyes. "I think there's a maximum amount of sadness the heart can take before it's full." Looking around at the medical tents reserved for those wounded who still had a chance, the dark-haired man sighed, also seeing the rows of the dead – human and pokémon alike. "He lived a long, good life for a Scyther."

"He was a great pokémon." Gary affirmed truthfully, though he only knew how to assess pokémon by their worth in a fight. Really wanting to make a go of this 'being good to those who care for him' thing, Gary tried to sympathise by imagining what it would be like for one of his pokémon to die. He couldn't quite picture it happening.

Uncomfortable, Gary rubbed his hair. "Um, Trace..." he begun. "Brock said we're heading into the tunnel soon." His friend nodded his head, indicating that he understood. "Um, if you need to, ah, _talk_ or anything, you can talk to me." Tracey's hair bobbed again.

"I haven't told the other two yet." The Watcher said, his hand touching the pokéballs at his side. "I'll probably need time alone with them."

Gary was more than willing to give his friend the space, and jumped up, saying; "Call if you need me." That offered, he swiftly walked off with Eevee in tow. Sparing a last glance back at his friend, Oak looked around for the next person he needed to deliver the message to. He knew where she was because Ash's mum and her pokémon were standing outside the tent.

As he approached the pair, Mr Mime gave Gary a quick assessing glance that suggested he no longer considered the roaming challenger a threat to his mistress.

Deliah looked up at Gary with woefully motherly eyes. "Oh dear..." she said, weaving into her tone a plea for Oak to comfort her daughter-in-law. Gary tightened his mouth and went for the tent's opening. To his surprise, Eevee elected to stay outside with Mrs Ketchum. She reminded the dog of Professor Oak.

"Fine..." Gary muttered bitterly, turning way from his pokémon and slipping inside.

Inside were several beds with pokémon and people strewn over them, injuries over their bodies. A few friends and trainers were hovering around, and Gary's eyes immediately attached to a tall thin woman with orange hair seated by a bed near the entrance.

Licking his lips, Gary steadied himself. Misty and he had not exchanged words since the 'waterfall affair'. Wincing, Gary thought 'affair' might be a poor choice of words. Clearing his throat, he drew the woman's attention.

She looked around quickly, perhaps expecting someone else. When she saw the lithe, strong form of Gary Oak, Misty immediately tensed. It was clearly readable across her face that the only reason she hadn't fled was that it would have been unseemly. Clumping together her courage, she took a breath and embraced maturity, turning back to her bed.

"Yes?" She asked, trying to keep as much snip out of the words as possible.

Gary rubbed at the back of his head, stupidly drawling "Uh..." Misty's throat tightened at how much he sounded like Ash. The Pallet trainer decided he wanted more out of this exchange than the relaying of orders and sharp dismissal. Stepping forward, he looked over the object of his desire's shoulder.

In the bed in front of her was Azumarill. The blue water rat was unconscious, with a plastic mask fitted over her tiny mouth. The breathing apparatus was cracked and apparently designed for a different sort of pokémon, but the Nurse Joy's and their medical staff had to make do with what Kanto had to offer. Gary's eyes swapped to Misty, and her neck and shoulders remained stiff.

"What happened to your Azumarill?" He tried, softening his nasal voice as much as he was able.

Misty's eyes were bolted forward. "She swallowed some poison gas." She responded curtly. "I'm told that she should make it through."

"Oh." Gary answered, his heart descending in his tall chest as he learned that his presence alone antagonised her. "Good, then."

There was silence, and the chill of Misty's cold shoulder was too much for Gary to melt. She could be an Ice Master with this attitude. A defeated grimace across his face, Oak passed on the message.

"We're heading down into Victory Road in about half an hour. Brock wanted you to know." He waited to see if Misty would respond, but she had no more words for him. Gary turned.

As he ducked through the tent entrance, Gary wondered why he was so hung up on this girl. She was just a _woman_, after all. He should be busy fighting battles that meant something, that brought him closer to the glorious heights of heaven – not negotiating the mundane politics of courtship. Scowling as much at himself as at Misty's distance, he came up to face her mother-in-law again.

Except this time Deliah was joined by more friends. Along with Eevee, Morty had slipped through from the netherworld to join them. Gary suspected that he may have been close at hand the whole time – Brock wouldn't leave Mrs Ketchum unguarded for long.

Looking up, Eevee's round eyes asked how it went, and Morty echoed his concerns. "Are you two talking again?" The droopy-eyed ghost hunter asked with what appeared to be real concern.

"Technically, yes." Gary admitted hesitantly, massaging his neck and changing the subject. "Are you ready to head off?"

"I guess things are complex now..." Deliah said sadly. "But Gary, she _is_ married – surely you knew it was a bad idea?"

Oak stared at the older lady in horror, realising that she knew all about what had happened between Misty and he. It was a shock – since as long as he could remember, Mrs Ketchum had been the closest thing to a mother-figure he'd observed in his own life next to his sister. The thought that she knew of his fooling around was particularly stabbing. What did she think of him?

Shaking the thought from his mind, he looked away. "We're not talking about this." He declared authoritively. "I'm off to the cave."

Clicking fingers at Eevee, the pair pushed through the thick crowd of the field hospital, leaving Mr Mime staring after apathetically, while Deliah and Morty were more involved.

"I'm worried about these two..." Deliah confessed. Morty shook his head.

"I'm more worried about your safety." He said, putting a friendly hand on Mrs Ketchum's shoulder. Mr Mime regarded the hold suspiciously, his small clownish hands tightening around his broom. "Stay in the camp – as close to a Nurse Joy as you can."

Deliah nodded and Morty stepped back. Gengar shifted around the shadows in his shirt and prepared the spells necessary to transport the Tomb-Raider to the main body of troops. Distant sounds of cries, chattering teeth and laughter rose, growing in volume as the hex matured. As the unknowable energies began to envelop him, Deliah put her hands together and touched her lips with worry.

"Will you be okay?" She called out over the magic sounds of other worlds.

Morty half-smiled. "Well, you know Victory Road's motto..." he shrugged and disappeared. His voice lingered, completing his response; "'Victory or death'."

-- --

Will rubbed his sleepless eyes. It was hard to rest when all the practicalities of command rested on your shoulders alone. He was the strongest living psychic in the world, though, and his mental discipline was far from slight. Straightening again, Thought-Poet glanced at his fellows gathered with him on the podium.

May was close at hand, tying on her bandana, her little pre-battle ritual. He was grateful that she was able to drag herself away from the grieving Champion's side. She was the Elite Second, after all – the men needed to see their leaders contributing to the war effort, not to mention her skills would be well employed in the fight ahead.

_A shame the Boss himself couldn't join us_, Will thought to himself, breathing in the morning air – thin and icy this high from the ground. _I shouldn't complain, but he's been pretty much useless recently._

Eyes pasted to May's backside, Bugsy's filthy presence was equally felt. Now that he had been promoted to acting Viridian Gym-Leader (for wont of other options), he was particularly disrespectful. _Bloody insect,_ Will judged, and thinking no more of this Johto-native, turned his attention to another.

Jasmine was on his right side, bolt-rod straight and looking like a female Caesar. Will felt it was a safe gamble to rely on her now, mind-reading confirming it, and her troops would be instrumental if the League was going to win this war. _She does stand out, though,_ Will noted, as he and the other two leaders were fairly relaxed by military standards. _ Her aloofness may help with command._

Maintaining command was going to be a big issue. Things were looking dire – there had already been many desertions. Loyalty was at a premium in the ranks.

Adjusting his gloves, he stared at what was left of the League's great army. To the left was the recently defeated Viridian Airborne, their uniforms a mess and barely standing in rank. Their gazes were a little too intimate with May and Jasmine's forms, but both women were used to this sort of treatment. _It's amazing how much Gyms will take after their Gym-Leader..._ Fair-Tongue noted to himself, remembering how anti-social and arrogant they had been under Falkner.

Then the Unassigned Corps, only a small number compared to the Gyms. While without much unit cohesion or military discipline, each member of the Corps were powerful, experienced trainers. They would be of some use, especially eschewing thematic dedication to a single pokémon type.

Next to them were the survivors of the Vermillion Lightning Strike Force, who had escaped with the fleet. The Vermillion civilians were with the evacuees from Viridian, camping north-east towards Pewter. Surge's remaining troops were clearly edgy – they were far from home, and keen to take it back, but they were experienced enough to know that they had to win here to ever see its endless rows of barracks again.

The Lightning Strike Force and Viridian Airborne were being held back at Indigo Palace. _Their specialties would be wasted down in Victory Road,_ Will knew, having learned from Surge's writings. _ Better dedicated as a last line of defence._ Argonaut's eyes went to the hole where the Palace gate was, the handiwork of Lance and Sabrina. _Someone's got to plug that up._

Occupying most of the large plain in front of the caved in doors were the gray-clad and well-drilled men of the Pewter Iron Guard. They stood comically tall, ridiculous compared to the combat-hardened troops flanking them. _These poor kids don't have a clue what they're getting into,_ the psychic perceived sadly. He looked at the rifles in their hands. _But at least they have half-way decent gear now._

Extreme right was the last body of troops at the League's disposal, the Lost Boys of Cinnabar. Ever since Cinnabar Island had been taken by Team Rocket, this Gym had been unable to stay in one place, blazing around Kanto, burning up everything in their way. Blaine's death hadn't changed anything. That wandering war-flame was still alight in these men, and they were hungry to finish off the Celadon Rangers.

"Alright," Will said at normal volume, catching the attention of the other League commanders with him. "Anyone got any inspiring words?"

Bugsy's festering grin spread across his sexually-ambiguous face. "Heh," he started, the quality of his laugh already suggesting no one would like this suggestion. "Maybe the Elite Second here could do an inspiring strip tease?"

Will lashed out mentally and struck the Bug Master on the head with invisible psychic energy. May gave the nerd a thankful look while Jasmine looked away from the chastised germ.

A shadow fell over the gathered troops, and all looked up to see a great bird slip down the air from on top of the Palace. May and Will were particularly surprised as the Pidgeot circled around and landed on the stage.

"Boss!" Thought-Poet greeted, the Champion himself dismounting and standing before his men, his Pikachu with him as always. The psychic was gratefully relieved to see the best trainer in the world back in the game. The Great Kanto Trainer seized Will's shoulder in grim camaraderie, and though Will didn't enjoy the physical contact, he was thanking the stars for the Champion's presence at all.

Ash nodded to Jasmine, whom he had yet to greet. The Iron Maiden merged a bow and curtsey in dignified fashion. Pikachu repeated the movement back.

May came up and grabbed Ash's arm gently, shocking Will by doing it without seduction. "Are you sure you're okay?" She asked.

Watching Ash nod, Will thought; _I may well ask the same of you, May._ The Elite Second looked preoccupied and hardly in any state to lead a key offensive. _I really don't want to send you down there._ But circumstances were binding.

"Pikapi." The thunder rat called. Ash looked down. "Pika chu chaa." The pokémon urged his master forward, indicating the army with a pudgy arm. The Champion, though clearly miserable, stepped forward to address the troops. Jasmine spread her hand out and shouted to assembly of Gyms.

"Attention for the Champion!" She announced, a surprisingly loud voice coming from her slight frame. Her Iron Guard somehow tightened to a firmer attention, while the less disciplined troops raised their heads to hear.

Though short against Will and Jasmine, Ash still cut an imposing figure. His duel-shaped muscles were framed by a coiling black cape, and the dark cap on his head never looked more like a crown. Dark rings around red eyes made him look unearthly, but yet affected by the sadness of humanity. Strong but accessible; a leader who knew what it was to be in the ranks – for the circumstances, Will fancied that the Chosen One looked perfect.

Ash let the silence drag a moment. His burning eyes roved over the faces of the men who stayed by his side until the end. Something needed to be said as the League began its last stand.

Opening his mouth at length, Ash's voice was frail but piercing – words that were weighed but real, honest from the soul.

"What are we doing here?" He asked, desperation in his tone. His generals blinked – May and Will's eyes met again. Was this the best way to sustain the men's already crumbling morale?

"That's what you're all thinking, right?" The Champion went on. "I mean, what are we doing other than looking to die?" He waved a gloved hand out towards Victory's Road entrance and the gravelly, grass-specked ground leading up to it. "Everything that's left of the League is in eyeshot. Whatever friends and family you have left are out _there_. With _them_." Jasmine was concerned with where the oration was going, and stepped towards the Champion to stop him, but Will had more faith in his leader and halted the imperial woman.

His eyes drifting across his troop's faces like fingers running along a fence, Ash could see that they were hearing him. Cocking his head, the Great Kanto Trainer went on. "So why are you going to risk death for this ruined palace, for a dead kingdom?" Every man formed up in regiments here could look over their shoulder to see the fortress wounded by dragons, and they could almost hear the march of Rebels through the Victory Road. Ash left the question hanging.

Dipping his head, he was truly reflective, and May wondered if this was a planned speech, or if he was just saying whatever came to him. The latter option was painfully possible.

The bill of his cap lifting up to reveal the Champion's face more clearly, Ash looked up over his men to the sky. In the morning light, the full moon lingered, not yet prepared to droop down under the horizon, as though it had stayed up to hear his pathetic little speech.

"I know why. You know why." He went on. Pikachu nodded, staring up with open admiration at Ash, Pidgeot equally enthralled. "If you didn't, you'd have joined the Rebels or run off by now." Will winced at these words – it would have been better not to put those ideas in the troop's heads. "I can tell by your bent backs and sleepless eyes – the way your hands are fused around your weapons." Lifting a shoe heavily, Ash began to slowly pace the stage.

"You know that the League was never some stupid empire or New World or whatever –" Jasmine huffed. "– The League is hope – the League is a dream." Ash smirked weakly. "Or maybe a dream beyond a dream. Or are we all insane?"

May and Bugsy looked over at Will who was rubbing his eyes in frustration. He thought his Boss was being too honest. Pikachu and Pidgeot didn't notice the psychic's disapproval of Ash's delivery.

Getting this off Ash's chest was freeing up the Pallet trainer to move more freely. Stretching up his hand into the sky, he made as though grasping the moon in his hand and raised his voice. "The Plateau is the highest point in all Kanto. This is the closest to the moon before climbing." Momentarily distracted by the sunlight-drowned shadow of the moon, Ash almost forgot where he was.

Looking back to the Gyms before him, Ash addressed them as though urging a dear friend. "The dream's not over." He began pacing wildly, trying to speak to each individual at once. There was a desperate love in his eyes. "We can still make it. All we have to do is do it!" He opened his arms invitingly. "Who wants to climb with me?"

There was silence. Staring up at their leader, the rank and file could not hook onto his giddily high ideals. Their Champion was the highest of them all, how could mere common men climb like he could? Besides, what good was 'reaching the moon' or whatever? They just wanted to go home and keep their family and friends safe.

Will immediately identified this and rushed forward to salvage the situation. Ash had grossly over-estimated the nobility of the League troops – but that minor error was not enough to make Will distrust him. His psychic prowess and knowledge of hidden things were the foundations for his faith in the Champion, and it could not be shaken by this sort of miscalculation. _Still, Ash can be unbelievably stupid sometimes._

Pumping his fist, Fair-Tongue roared at the troops, appealing to more base feelings. "Let's climb up a mountain of Rebel dead!"

Revenge, violence; these things the League Gyms could understand. Crying out in rage, the troops raised their guns and cheered as though already at victory.

Ash stared, and Will ran a glove through his slick hair. The others on stage waited for the shouts from the men to die down before giving orders and directions. Letting out a sigh, Will turned his mind to the next problem: Riling up the men was one thing, but winning the battle – that was going to take a miracle.

-- --

Guarding the North side was pointless on two counts – the first was the obvious fact that the enemy was clearly coming from the south-east. The second reason also appeared simple, but carried a more sinister undertone.

The only way from the Indigo Plateau into Sinnoh was an ancient tunnel, collapsed long ago when the first wars broke out across Kanto. One might expect that the people of Sinnoh blew the caves to prevent the madness spreading to them, but it rather was the decision of Viridian – anything to keep those war-crazed northerners from coming down and complicating the problem even more.

At any rate, the path was closed up tight, reduced to a long cavern thick with darkness. What once was a fresh road into new adventures for smiling youngsters was now a symbol of denied potential, of stunted growth. It was the death of childhood dreaming.

'Why did we ever post guards there in the first place?' It was often commented, but just because a road was inaccessible didn't mean it was uninhabited. Edges of wolfish Houndooms, or roaring Tyranitars would haunt the lightless recess. If you stared too deep into that dark, the dark would begin to stare back into you.

The guards would disappear, then return, save in mutilated portions. Eventually the Champion called an end to posting men there to die – he couldn't bear to think of his men being killed so horribly. And in the end, it seemed redundant to have men stationed at that place anyway – after all, that's where Karen lived.

Oozing like an irate sore, the Elite First emerged from the black, a freshly harvested Tyranitar claw to comb her dead hair. Twisting her pale face she looked with her inhuman eyes beyond space, realising that a battle had begun in Victory Road. The scaly appendage fell from her hand and excitement bubbled up in her eyes.

"Oh my..." she said breathily, a hand on her throat and the other tracing dangerously high on her inner thigh. "To have started the tease without me; how rude!"

Stepping forward, stretching her black dress, Unmentionable began to sink into the ground. Every step had Karen fall deeper, pooling into dark stains, until the tip of her white mane vanished, and Gym-Slayer was nothing again.

-- --

It was wise for Brock to press on into Victory Road quickly – That way the League would be unable to fortify the labyrinth. He could press the advantage, trial the loss-weary League further towards surrender and flight while taking advantage of the Resistance's rekindled optimism.

But he had underestimated how hideous the fighting conditions in the darkness of Victory were. The tunnels had been laid out as a labyrinth, intended to force young trainers into one last challenge, but the paths were too narrow to be easily navigated by armies of men. Myriad branches split forces, funnelling them all through the Plateau's veins like poison. Each man barely knew where forward was, let alone where they were in relation to their enemies and allies.

To make things worse, the lighting was barely maintained in the technologically backward Kanto. The occasional flickering bulb was the best that could be hoped for. Mixed in with the blindness and disorientation, no one could know if they were shooting at friend or foe.

Eyes draped with darkness, Brock lifted his pistol and prayed the shadow he aimed at was an Iron Guardsman. Shooting down the silhouette, he looked glanced down at his side, where Snap had his eye-socket glued to his scope.

"Cover me!" He shouted over the cacophony of gunfire and screams echoing down the tunnels. Skimming along the earthy walls, he advanced to the next bend in the maze and peered around. There were shapes, and they saw him, as there was pointing and fire billowed out.

Ducking back, Brock avoided a char-grilling, but caught sight of enough red in the firelight that he was confident he was fighting Lost Boys. Waving for his comrades to follow, Misty, Snap and a few Rangers moved in.

Checking everyone was present with peering night vision, Brock pressed his back to the wall. He'd tried to have all his heavy hitters stay together this time around, hopefully to prevent damage to their own side. It hadn't worked perfectly; Gary, in his smug self-assurance, had ignored orders and run ahead like a fool, and Tracey had been separated from the group somehow.

The noise was so intense that Brock had to sign his instructions. Misty nodded as she watched him make wave motions with his hands and released her Starmie from its pokéball. The many-pointed starfish hovered expectantly, and Misty pointed around the wall, hoping her pokémon's psychic powers would pick up the specifics.

"Hyah!" The sea-creature declared, spinning at speed out into the open, hosing gallons of water down the tunnel. The League pyromaniacs were washed away along with their Ponyta, but Misty refused to kill. Sputtering, the men aimed their weapons, intending to shatter Starmie's centre gem.

Then a man slipped from the walls as between curtains. Ethereal arms stretched out, the ghastly figure inserted his hands in through the back of the men's chests. They gargled and flailed as their hearts were squeezed, then collapsed as their organs popped.

Neighing defiantly, the Ponyta kicked from the muddy ground, trying to break Morty as he became more visible. A dark shape, invisible in the lightless paths, fell from the roof and smothered the fire pony. Hideous red grin on his face, Gengar laughed as his cloudy form poured down Ponyta's throat and nostrils, delighting in the pokémon's struggle and terminal strangulation.

"Okay..." Brock announced, seeing that the Ecruteak Gym-Leader had dealt with the newest batch of League scum, pressing forward, the others following

Flapping was by his ears – he had summoned his Crobat to use its sonic abilities to navigate through Victory Road. He was shooting directly towards the exit – there was no time for getting lost. It would be hell until they came to the light of the Plateau's crown – but first they had to survive the dark mechanics of the beauty above.

"Arrgh!" Pierced a sharp scream behind. He and Misty turned – as did Snap who was taking up the rear – and between them they saw one of the Rangers strike the wall, the top of his skull bitten off.

Skidding to a hall, weapons at the ready, they were all creeped out when the sounds of battle were suddenly plaited together into some strange chuckling with a come-hither flavour. Something was swinging from the roof – long white hair. The upper-body of a woman in black was hanging there.

Morty pushed passed Stone-Baron, his blonde hair thrown in the rush. "Crap!" He exclaimed, his voice layered clearly over the din. The magic-wielder spread his arms, a panic in his easy eyes, and twisted them in a fast series of awkward positions, chanting a disturbing mantra. It was the first time anyone had seen him utter an incantation – the power of his spell evident when a shimmering field burst from his body in the shape of a skull.

The hanging woman stretched out her hand, her fingers lengthening into long black spears, looking to run the wizard through. The others shifted to make sure they were within the Tomb-Raider's protective enchantment. Her hellish appendages splashed over the face of the skull, not crashing through but pushing the ward back.

"Hold on!" Misty cried out in encouragement, which was all she could do to contribute to her survival. Gengar coiled around Morty's blue clothes and funnelled his other-worldly powers into the spell. Gorged on the smell of death through the Road, the pokémon's strength was enough to force back the dark energies, pressing the woman back into the roof.

There was a pouting whimper from the woman, like a mistress who had been spurned, and that particular danger seemed to have passed.

"There's a minotaur to this labyrinth." Morty noted with clenched teeth, sweated balling on his face. The surviving two Celadon Rangers looked shaken. "The League has unchained its monster."

Brock and Misty exchanged looks. The Elite First, Karen – that was one scary woman. Crumble-Heart looked back to the sorcerer. "Can you hold her off?"

"It'll take all I have." Morty explained. "I'll need to focus – I might not be much use while I do so."

Snap stepped forward, his hand drawing something from his pouch. "I have silver bullets, if that helps. Got crosses and other holy stuff on 'em." He said through his cigarette. There was a smirk on his features. "They're expensive, though."

The others weren't sure that they would have any effect, and the thought of adding to his bill scared Brock almost as much as the devil-woman. "I hope it doesn't come to that." The large man said before resuming his path. Crobat flew ahead, screeching into the dark to map out a path. "Let's just get through this."

-- --

Gary had preferred to face the mad underpinnings of the Indigo dream by himself than bear Misty's difficultness. Eevee, as ever, was still at his feet, but he had sent out the other pokémon from his team to blaze their own trails to make life easier for the rest of the Resistance.

A smorgasbord of shadows would cross his path, but he blasted them all down with his AK-47, letting Eevee clean up anything he missed. He didn't even stop to check if he gunned down Resistance or League – his only interest was forward.

He had no concerns for finding his way – his famously excellent sense of direction wouldn't fail him, especially now that he was so close to Ash – he was up there, waiting, and not even Misty would divert his path.

"Ee! Veeevee!" The dog galloping by his shins accused.

"I am not thinking about her!" Gary denied. That damn girl was driving him to distraction. He had been killing and adventuring and training since he was a young boy with the sole intent of beating Ash. This was the culmination of his life – the pinnacle of his desperate reaching for the moon. How could he be set off track by a mere _woman_?

Skidding around a corner, he could only agree with himself. _Yes, yes, this isn't about petty romantic affairs like I was some _common_ person._ He nodded to himself and Eevee gave his master a concerned look. _This is about me and Ash – that's what this is all about._

What idiotic logic had brought him to that conclusion?

The shocking question hit him, but was discarded as he ran into view of a strong light source. His pokémon saw it too and yelped.

"I see it." Renewing the speed of his run, Gary jumped around the corner, gun up and sword out. Eevee was with him, his tiny teeth bared and growling.

Open before them was a broadened cavern, the lightning of which was in good repair, showering the stone with its glow. Some trick of acoustics made the rivers of fighting all around sound distant. Sitting in this space, deep in the horror of Victory Road, was the most beautiful woman Oak had ever seen.

Blinking at the absurd sight, Gary glanced back to check if he had walked through some gateway into dreamland. Eevee bobbed his long ears in confusion. Looking back, Gary scanned the girl again – she had a clinging red shirt, the colour of roses, and a black miniskirt. Her brown hair was a short cut except for extremely long bangs by her eyes running past her jaw, and a bandana crowned her head as though in lieu of a tiara. Her feminine hands were cloaked in fighting gloves. She was physically perfect, glowing with that glimmering glory that was normally reserved for objects of infatuation.

Gary's mouth had dropped at some point. She was magical. The only thing approximating an imperfection was a small bandage on her cheek – and even that was somehow transformed into a wondrous, characterful point of interest.

"No way..." Oak uttered as he realised that this wasn't some fantasy, but bizarre reality – Aphrodite resting in the madness of Ares' realm. But then again, that pair had been secret lovers...

Eevee, who had no fear of battle-strength, backed down as the beauty noticed them and stood up. She looked sad, and the Pallet trainer tensed himself to force down the urge to hold her protectively.

"It's your lucky day." The woman said, sweeping a bang aside, like a movie. Gary's loins stirred. "You're cute and I'm not in the mood for anymore killing."

Hot woman or not, Gary wasn't about to be talked down to. Over-compensating in testosterone, he grit his teeth and stepped forward, pointing his gun threateningly. "Maybe you don't know who you're dealing with." He growled brutishly.

Laughing mirthlessly through her nose, May put her hands on her hips and looked at the wall. "Listen, I'm the Elite Second, May of Petalburg. If you want my titles, they call me 'Rose', and 'Turner', and 'Heart-Taker'." She looked back from under her brow, adding menace to her words. "That last one is true literally."

Head raised, Eevee was impressed. "Eeeee..." the pup said aside to his master. Gary was equally surprised that such a mystically attractive woman would also be such a high-level fighter.

"Wow." He said. May shrugged in mock-humility. "I guess we have to fight now." When her look asked why, he explained. "I guess if you wanted to give me an epiphet, 'Challenger' might work, but just call me Gary Oak."

Large, mesmerising eyes wide, May was clearly caught off guard. "_You're_ the guy Ash has been so obsessed with?"

Gary's cocky grin returned as the dynamics of power shifted back to him. He didn't notice that he was lowering his weapons. "We go way back."

May snapped a gloved hand and pointed at him. "We met! At the Pallet party, after the championships!"

Cocking his head, Gary thought about it, and Eevee helped him, whinging out a few hints.

"Oh, you were the jealous girl, weren't you?"

Blushing when reminded of her reaction to Ash asking Misty out on their first date, May rolled her eyes away and fiddled her fingers. "Uh, yeah, that was me."

Shaking his head, Gary chuckled, and May eventually joined in, scratching at her bandana in embarrassment. Slowly, they rolled into silence.

A moment passed and Eevee nudged gently at his master's leg. Gary shook himself. Reality collapsed upon the pair as though the Plateau itself had caved in.

"Oh, uh... should we start fighting now?"

May licked her lips and slowly put her hand on one of her pokéballs. "I suppose..."

A hesitant period passed before May punched herself in the thigh, driving her to conjure forth Skitty, her absent-minded pink cat. As the pokémon circled in ignorance, May unhooked a steel discus from her hip, hollow in the centre.

"No hard feelings?" The beauty said, as though asking for permission to commence attack.

The scientist shrugged with his sword arm. "The one who loses won't have feelings to hurt." He admitted harshly, but softened the blow with a smile. The fight began.

-- --

Tracey panted from fear as much as exhaustion. The battle was thick around him, but sheltered in the crack in the wall, he had a moment's respite. Carbine clutched close to his chest, he gulped in the soil and blood-muddled air, readying himself to jump back into the fire and gunfire.

He couldn't stay still, not down here – he had to advance. Everyone knew it – to find the light above, they would have to master this darkness. There could be no dawdling – and why should they, here in the villainous foundations of the League's capital? To the end of affecting a swift exit, Venonat was cuddled in the Watcher's lap.

"Alright..." Tracey said to his bug pokémon the moment he had enough breath to talk. "On three... three!"

Pushing up, Sketchit pointed his weapon around, fired several bursts and jogged out into the tunnels again, Venonat's plump form buzzing by his head. There were dead bodies clogging the way, likely allies, and Tracey threaded his feet through the splayed limbs, not checking the nature of their wounds.

There was a T-junction ahead and in the dark he peered in, seeing one way apparently clear, but shifting forms the other. His bug sat on his shoulder.

"Okay," he said to the pokémon. "You need to be quick. Leech Seed."

Peeking, Tracey watched the furry ball fly low and spit a cluster of fast-growing weeds at what he hoped were enemies. Several cries erupted as they were netted in the vines. Victoriously pumping his fist, Tracey prepared to shoot the preoccupied soldiers, only to notice a red flash and the distinct call of a Vulpix. The small fox carefully burned away his master's bonds.

Snatching Venonat back into cover, before the flames could be turned on him too, Tracey cursed. Detaching his last pokéball, the Orange Islander released Azumarill, wishing he still had Scyther to back them up.

"Alright guys..." He said, calming himself by taking charge. "Take a leaf out of the Surge's book – strike hard and fast."

As he and his pokémon prepared to fight for their lives, they failed to notice the woman lying with the corpses behind them, feeling up the chest of a dead trainer. Glaring up at the foreign Watcher, the ghoulish figure licked her black lips with hate-lust, white hair blanketing her hideously-sensual face.

-

-

Rah rah rah, continued next chapter, you know the drill.


	29. Beneath the Dream 2

**Disclaimer**: I still don't own Pokémon, because Nintendo and 4kids still do.

-

**Grasping the Moon**

Chapter 29 – Below the Dream

Part 2

May was brilliant. In a matter of seconds she had spun her discus, ricocheting it twice from the walls and cutting the band of Gary's rifle. As Gary twisted out of the razor-edged weapon's path, the woman herself had shot forward and slid in low, kicking up at this gun artfully and catching her projectile in one motion. The rifle went flying, and Gary had to skip backwards to avoid the perfectly executed follow-up sweeping fist May threw.

_Beautiful..._ was the only thing Gary could think despite losing his machine gun. Even he wasn't sure if he was referring to the girl herself or her amazing technical precision. As May forced Gary backwards, Eevee pounced on Skitty, and the two tasselled violently, the dog tossing the cat into a boulder, shattering it.

"Come on!" Gary challenged, his blood beginning to boil again, straightening out his long sword to receive her second charge.

May was quick, coming in straight. Stabbing at her, Gary only skewered air, the Elite Second rolling expertly around the weapon and slashed with the discus in her hand. No slouch himself, Gary dodged and began a close-in exchange of slashes.

Parrying with her metal circlet, May kept pace, her form flawless. At one point, she warded off a heavy overhead attack, rolling Gary's blade to the side, and in the process thrusting out her chest.

Eyes full of the woman's... assets, Gary was startled, unused to being confronted with this in the heat of battle. "Ahh..." he dumbly articulated, breaking out of his trance only a moment before May's blade slit his throat.

Renewing the sword-dance, the Pallet trainer intensified his aggression, impatient with himself because his wandering eyes almost cost him his life. May inched back a fraction, driving Gary to thrust forward with his sword. "Gotcha!"

"Got me?" May repeated with a smirk. She had led him into the attack, folding a knee and letting Gary poke his sword through the hole in her discus. Grabbing the weapon with both hands, she said, "Look again_._"

Twisting the circle, she pried the sword cleanly from the Pallet trainer's hand. Gary's eyebrows were flying, blown up by her faultless counter. She was something else – having disarmed him completely in the opening stages of the duel. Her skill was incredible.

Eevee was also finding his opponent exceeding expectation, especially considering how useless she looked. Skitty was a ditz of the highest calibre, and ceaselessly yammered about how 'fun' she thought this 'game' was, but was weathering Eevee's battleship-splitting blows in good sport. She was dishing out the punishment with equal strength, her claws passing through stone like it was air.

Bounding out of range of another slash, Eevee opened his maw and dropped are dark shadow ball down on the feline. Smiling up at the attack, Skitty disappeared in a movement so quick that lesser pokémon would have found it invisible. The ball exploded and sprayed debris.

Eevee vanished with equal speed, bouncing from the walls with Skitty, exchanging bodily collisions. Skitty was matching his agility and power, but the dog twisted suddenly in mid-air, slapping his bushy tail down on his foe's face.

"Ee!" The dog cried in victory, landing as Skitty was dashed solidly on the ground, cracking the rocks.

"Nyaaah..." She complimented, surprising Gary's prime fighter by jumping to her feet. The cat was hurt, but still battle ready. Eevee narrowed his cute eyes, aware that he was still superior as a fighter overall – he needed to finish this. Skitty was still smiling nicely. "Nyah, nyah?"

Skitty delivered a shock by opening her mouth and gathering a shadowy sphere of energy. Recognising his own attack, Eevee dodged as the ghostly power smashed into the cave wall, only to receive his second surprise.

The cat was already above him, having predicted the direction of his dodge, and coiled, slapping her tail down on Eevee's stunned look in exactly the same fashion that the dog had done to her a moment ago.

Rebounding off the wall to the rocks below, the canine was quick to move before May's pokémon followed through with a ground-breaking headbutt. More dazed than injured, Eevee set his eyes on the proud cat as she winked at him.

"Purrrr..." the suddenly more threatening opponent purred, circling in excitement. She, at merely a glance, had copied Eevee's technique to the nuance. Eevee licked his snout – even if Eevee was the stronger, making even the slightest error could lead to him being caught out by his own weapons.

A smile broadened his cute little face, the thrill of actual risk, true danger in the field of battle shivering his heart.

_Hell yes,_ he thought. _ This is _exactly_ why we came back to Kanto_!

-- --

The ground shuddered, and Brock steadied himself on the wall. Misty kept her footing, balancing herself with her steel mallet.

"That must be her." Misty commented, shouting it over the gunfire and quakes to Brock who was only two feet from her.

Boulder-King nodded, looking back to check that his ever-growing squad was upright and alright. "Probably."

Some trainers had joined his team as they encountered each other in the catacombs. A few men had been lost in confused friendly-fire, but in the chaos of Victory Road that sort of thing was sadly unavoidable. Brock promised to make it up to the slain by winning this war.

News from these fresh additions was that there was a woman somewhere ahead with a Steelix burrowing through the tunnels and making new ones. They had been retreating away from her, as she had been slaughtering any Resisters to get near her.

With a description like that, and considering all the Iron Guardsmen he had been shooting, there was only one person it could be.

"It must be Jasmine." He said to Misty and Morty, who nodded. Morty went back to focusing on maintaining a repelling field in case Karen came back to make more evil, so he wouldn't be a great deal of help if they ran into the Iron Maiden. Brock looked to the trainers and Rangers behind. "Anyone got a fire pokémon?"

One kid from Hoenn put up his hand.

"I want you front and centre."

The boy came to his side and released a Torchic. Staring down at the tiny red chicken, Brock bit back a disparaging comment. This would have to do.

"Snap!" The sniper appeared. "You've got incendiary rounds, right?"

Dropping a cigarette on the ground and crushing it out, the redhead smirked.

"I got 'em if you can pay for 'em."

Invisible in the darkness and in his narrow slits, Brock rolled his eyes. More money on the bonfire. "Fine, you're up front too."

Preparations made, Brock waved a hand forward and continued advance. As best as he could tell, the League was falling back to better fighting conditions. That was probably smart – they didn't have the luxury of being able to win a war of attrition like the Resistance.

Slapping his temple, Brock banished the thought. _How could I think of people like that?_ He scolded himself. _Every soldier who dies is a soul with a life._

Forcing open his inside to be vulnerable to the monstrosity of every man, woman or pokémon shot down, Crumble-Heart pushed on. He had to lead everyone out of here fast to minimise losses.

"Too many people have died already..." He whispered to himself, the words lost in the amplified sound of war.

-- --

Tracey coughed up blood as the woman's unnaturally strong hands pinned his throat against the earth walls, a sparking wire from the broken lights drifting dangerously close to his face. A dark chuckle rumbled from her pale throat.

Looking through the black hair smeared over his face, he ignored the hanging wire and stared down at the abomination below him. She was the sort of woman that modelled for life drawing, a well-made example of female form, and yet for all her shapeliness, she was a terror to look at. The artist in Tracey wanted to draw her in an attempt to capture that impossible visual contradiction.

"Hmm..." she cooed, eyes seductive but sickening. "You look wonderfully tasty..."

Venonat and Azumarill were captured, ensnared in the monster's white hair. Her long dead locks had twisted like snakes, wrapping up his pokémon and leaving them helpless.

Medusa had appeared from the enveloping darkness, cleaving through the Iron Guardsmen who were presumably on her side. Tracey had been about to ambush them, and as the last to live he was to be honoured with the most torturous death. The ground around Karen's feet was carpeted with the League's troops whom she had betrayed.

Her elongated fingernails were run down Tracey's face in a perversion of affection, cutting lightly at the skin. The Elite First smiled.

"Oh, I so hope you satisfy me..." she said with longing, her mouth begging. "I am ever so hard to satisfy..."

Tracey spit a bloody wad at her face, splattering her cheek. His spine shivered when her long tongue snaked out and licked up the mess hungrily.

"Try not to let the blood come too quickly now." She said with a playful rebuke.

"Why?" Tracey choked out.

Karen's fingers trailed from his face down to his chest, end up over his heart. The edges of her razor-nails dug into the muscle there. "You're so full of succulent darkness." She explained. "Your misery, your spite, your loss." She raised herself, mid-section lengthening in shadowy-mist so that her black lips were by his ear. "I only wish I were the one to steal her from you, so I could feel your hate."

Reacting viciously, Tracey kicked out at her, but not matter how sure he was of hitting her, he seemed only to hit air. She hummed in amusement throughout.

Tiring, the Watcher's legs fell back against the wall. His rage had passed too.

"You won't find a feast in me." He growled out, gargling blood.

Smirking at his words, Unmentionable turned her head to beg he talk further. Her fingers drew shapes on his chest as she waited for him to explain what he meant, tearing his shirt. Tracey grabbed the hand around his throat and pulled himself further up so he could speak more clearly.

He sneered at Karen. "There is love in my heart." Karen's face didn't change, but her fingers stopped, above the heart in question. She could easily extend her nails in dark energy and skewer the vital organ. Tracey had nothing to lose. "Love of life, love of art, love for..." He voice quivered. "_her._"

Night-Whisper shook her head. "And love will save you?" She said skeptically.

Encouraged that he wasn't dead yet, Sketchit went on. Venonat's many-faceted eyes were fixed on his master as his last hope, while Azumarill dared not move for fear of prodding Gym-Slayer to murder.

"No human or pokémon's love is incorrupt." He admitted, pulling himself high again. Karen's arm was unmoving like a girder – her strength was clearly preternatural. "But love's not dark – it's bright, like the moon in the night, or the sun in space." He met Karen's abyssal eyes, the seat of insanity. "You'll starve on the meal I have to offer."

There was a silence between the two, as the chaos of war filled the Victory Road tunnels like gas in pipes. A long moment passed where Tracey couldn't breathe before Karen opened her blood-hungry mouth.

She laughed. There was mockery and derision and all manner of vileness in her hysterics. Tracey's heart fell, his courage shrivelled. A death worse than a normal war could offer was coming for him. Closing his eyes, he tried to seek solace in the thought that he might be with her again.

Instead of painful shredding, however, the next thing he felt was his backside impacting on stone. Eyelids separating, he looked up in confused fear at the black-dressed woman above him. She was still laughing but had let him go as she turned away. Her hair unwound and dropped his two pokémon to the ground as well, the small creatures bouncing on the corpses.

"You sure overrate yourself!" She said, walking through the canvassing shadows and disappearing. Her cackling hovered around like a hive of bees for a moment before dispersing too.

Stunned on the ground, Tracey, Venonat and Azumarill were left to stare at each other and wonder how they survived.

-- --

Slowly the strange realisation was dawning on Gary that if was a worse fighter he would be doing better in this fight.

May was not notably strong or fast, but her technique was pure and perfect – it was said that half of a person's martial skill disappeared the moment a fight began, but she didn't seem to have lost an inch of it. Gary, being such a talented warrior himself, was able to appreciate every twitch she made in the brutal art of warfare, like painters worshipped a portrait.

But it was very difficult to get around to the business of killing someone when you admired every movement they made.

Gary had backed down, miscalculating in his distraction and giving the ex-Co-ordinator room to throw her discus at him.

_The first dodge isn't so bad,_ he thought to himself, ducking his head to the side as the metal circlet spun by. It struck the stone wall at precisely the right angle to deflect of and fly towards Gary's back. He twisted, only for the weapon to bounce off a boulder and come at him again. _It's the second and third which are a pain..._

Losing the tips of his hair as he coiled away, the throwing-circle bounced off the wall again, but thankfully flew back into May's waiting hands. As she caught it, she diffused the incoming force in a spin, turning it into an ornate finish, her hands out in perfect lines, like a dancer.

"Never seen a dancer throw a blade like _that_..." Gary muttered to himself, preparing himself for the next assault. Forcing himself to focus, he tried to return his mind to the game. "You're fighting for your life, fighting for your life..." he reminded himself.

Winding herself up, May launched forward artfully, foot raised to land on Gary's skull. Her defence was perfect, but the mini-skirt and high-kick left her... _exposed_ in another way. Gary went red and almost forgot to dodge.

"Gah! Dammit!" He howled in pain, taking the blow like an axe on his neck. Stumbling around, he cursed his errant eyes. May swept out to slit Gary with her ring, but he cleanly bent around and caught her in a counter.

His fist sailed for her face, but the sight of shimmering gleam on her cheek forced him to jerk his aim and strike her fractionally less-sexy shoulder. She rolled with the blow like was part of the piece and was at a safe distance in a guarding ward with no lasting damage.

Pausing for a breather that he needed more mentally than physically, Gary rubbed at his lips. Something about the brunette beauty's style struck him as familiar... then it hit him. He read a book once teaching this fighting-style – by Max, Gym-Leader of Petalburg.

_Max of Petalburg, May of Petalburg – makes sense._ He thought. She was following his instruction perfectly – he must be pretty proud of this student. On the 'pro' side this meant that she was predictable.

The 'con' side was more populace. He wasn't conversant with everything Max had written or taught – she could still likely surprise him. Max's teachings on fighting and training were among the best – Gary wasn't aware of any flaws. Lastly, Gary wasn't sure it would matter if was always mesmerised by how _damn wonderful she looked..._

Considering whether he should ask his opponent about the Max-connection, Gary decided against it. It would be rude – she was wrapped up in her performance, like a true professional, a true _artist_, feeling the totality of every move, the poetry of every action. Oak withdrew every bad thing he'd ever thought about Co-ordinators who crossed over into battle Training.

Springing towards Gary and flicking out her discus, May was a flying angel of glory. In her beaming radiance, she resumed the onslaught/stage show.

-- --

Eevee's initial enjoyment of meeting an equal fighter in battle was rapidly diminishing as he grew to understand that Skitty _wasn't_ an equal fighter. Throughout the whole battle she wasn't contributing anything of her own – she was just ripping off every move Eevee made and paying it back to him.

Much akin a child repeating back every sentence you say becomes very little fun very quickly, so was Eevee's duel. However, just as when you trying to trap the mimicking kid with an "I'm stupid", he subtly breaks the pattern and says "_You're_ stupid", so too did Skitty frustratingly refuse to be beaten by her own rules.

"Eee_veee!_" The dog demanded, broadening his paws and sinking towards the rocky floor. He wanted the cat to fight on her _own_ strength, which he was absolutely sure was less than his own.

Skitty's response was to tilt her pink head dumbly. "Nyah?"

Grinding his sharp teeth, Eevee's frustration was heightened by how effectively the empty-headed feline's tactics were working. Unlike the flat clones that the Ditto of Viridian City had made, which imitated his moves brainlessly, Skitty was copying his moves at a deeper level – understanding them, breaking down their intricacies, and starting to adapt them to work better for her and more effectively on him. Slowly, but surely, she was building up a perfect model of Eevee's mind, to the end that she could predict anything he did.

And the whole time doing it with that empty grin and insisting she was 'playing'.

"Nyah! Nyah!" She pressed, circling impatiently to play more. Eevee narrowed his eyes dangerously.

Nothing would shame him more than being beaten by a pokémon so significantly weaker than him – but the best strategy he could spin was to sweep Skitty away in a surge of overwhelming power. Problem: They were underground, and the sort of energy Eevee would need to shift might bring the roof down on them.

Sucking in a gut of air, Eevee prepared himself and pounced. Skitty reacted excitedly, and as she dodged behind Eevee as he landed, the dog kicked back with his hind legs, frosty energy gathering around his paws in blue chunks. The Ice kick caught Skitty's sleek form in the ribs, and cat went rolling.

Icicles broke off along the ground, but unfortunately the cat pokémon had not been frozen in place. Grimacing, Eevee knew that his gambit had failed, giving Skitty another attack of his to repeat.

"Veeee..." he sighed in irritation, and somersaulted under the flying cat as she brought an ice-cold paw down where Eevee had been. A bouquet of ice erupted from the point of impact, Skitty having instantly mastered a move Eevee had put much agony into learning.

Facing the cat again, Gary's dog wondered if he should just bring the mountain down on them and hope Mew would save them again... it would certainly end this unsatisfying battle quickly.

-- --

In a moment of self-control, Gary managed to shoot a piercing strike at May's forearm, forcing her hand open to discard her weapon. Even before the circlet clattered to the stony ground, she had seamlessly moved into a barrage of punches.

Gary wiped his hands in defence, sweeping her blows aside harmlessly. Even as he knocked her gloved hands from their dangerous flight, he was slowly hypnotised by the sight. Her punches were a technical marvel – she shifted her weight, employing the full strength of her body in each blow, maintaining a sharp strike, yet all with total efficiency of movement. To a fighter like Gary Oak, it was a visual symphony.

Drawn deeper into her martial _brilliance_, the Pallet Trainer forgot his own part in the tango and slowed, letting her land a clean hit on his chin. He jerked back, his appreciation of the attack numbing the pain a little, and she followed through with a two-part combo. Gary was on the ground.

_Man, this is kinda stupid,_ he thought to himself, rubbing his jaw. The Hoenn girl was hovering over him, her fists up in a boxing stance. It was both sexy and sublime – Gary couldn't quite motivate himself to stand. _I just want to study her..._

Seeing that her opponent was staying down, May retreated a few steps to collect her fallen discus – smart move, it was wise to arm herself against a bigger, heavier man like Gary. Ash's eternal rival scanned the cave floor for his own weapons, but they were both beyond the Elite Second.

Hooking up the steel circlet with her foot, May lifted her leg high into horizontal splits with gymnast-like ease. She collected the hook as one taking a hat from the rack before dropping her leg as though the whole action was mundane. Gary's mouth hung gaping.

_Woah._

May held up the slicing projectile to launch it in a finishing blow, and Gary shifted to dodge and counter-attack, but she hesitated. Her focused, emphatic face that channelled the heart of her combat art dropped, and with a sigh, her hands did likewise.

"What are we doing?" She asked, showing a palm. Gary blinked.

"Huh?"

Her eyes falling, May took her weapon in both hands and stared at its metal form. "We don't hate each other, but here we are kicking each other's faces in."

Taking the opportunity, Gary rose to his feet and tried to calculate a means to get past her to his gun. She raised her eyes and smiled shallowly at Gary. His heart jumped.

"I don't know why I'm fighting." She went on, scratching the bandage on her cheek. Looking over her shoulder, she whistled at her Skitty. Caught in the middle of charging up a dark shadow ball, the cat mewed in childish whinging, but obediently stopped fighting and came to her mistress' side. Eevee stared in surprise before meeting eyes with Gary. The researcher only shrugged.

"Gary, right?" She confirmed, and he nodded. "I was a bit... blind to it before, but Ash is on a downward spiral." Gary raised an eyebrow. A _downward_ spiral? "He's going to end up the psycho-devil of history. We've got to stop him." May's expression was pleading. "We've got to save Ash."

The words had immediate resonance with Gary – he was thrown back to the now-decimated roof of Cerulean Gym, where Misty begged Gary to help her save Ash. He twitched a little.

"You're his friend or something, right?" She pushed, her brown eyes seeking support from the Rebel. "We need to save him, right?"

Tentative, Gary ventured to ask for clarification. "Are you... swapping sides?" After a moments thought, she nodded.

"_Eee_eee..." Eevee cried in disbelief, rolling his large eyes. Switching loyalties this late in the game was hardly admirable, but at the same time he had no good reason to disbelieve her.

"Ah... okay?" Gary said, unsure how to respond. Normally he would rather to finish the match and establish who was truly stronger, but he didn't particularly want to kill such a beautiful woman. Grumbling under his breath, Eevee trotted to Gary's side, sparing a final dirty look at Skitty as she was washed in red light and pulled back into her pokéball.

Slightly awkward, the pair stared at each other. What did they do now? Neither of them had spared an enemy before.

Eevee head butted Gary's calf lightly. "Ee!" the dog ordered.

"Ah, right." Gary responded and, indicated with his hands for May to come with him. Accepting his invitation, the two humans and pokémon walked out of the caverns entrance into the Victory Road tunnels. Outside was gunfire and violence and madness and death.

Coughing as they approached the darkness, Gary thrust up his arm and flexed. "I guess you were won over by my charm and good looks, hey?"

Groaning, May rubbed the bridge of her nose.

-- --

A field hospital was never quiet – there were always rushed, makeshift surgeries, screaming casualties, and nurses running wild. As the battle was underground in a maze, it was rare for the wounded to find their way out, dragged by their allies. Occasionally a League soldier would appear, blood down his uniform, surrendering and begging for treatment. The Nurse Joys could scarcely refuse.

Deliah found herself relatively useless. When asked, she would help ferry supplies and provide water, but generally she only added to the cacophony.

To keep out of the way, she stayed at the edge of the encampment. They had set up right outside the gaping hole that was the entrance to the lauded Victory Road – sitting on a rock with Mr Mime at her side, she would wait for wounded men to stagger out and help them to a gurney.

"Oh dear..." she sighed to herself, listening to the second chorus of madness blown from the cave entrance like from a tuba. She had hoped that war had been left long behind, as Lancey had promised – the thought of today's youth going through what she had survived in her childhood was terrible. "I hope everyone's okay..."

Next to her, Mr Mime rolled his eyes. "Miiime..." the diminutive clown comment, though his master didn't understand him.

From her seat on a rock, she saw movement in the darkness and shot to her feet. Mr Mime saw it too and held his broom out at the ready. A figure did emerge – a man in a red cloak, followed closely by a fierce Charmeleon. Blinking at the light, his eyes adjusted and looked around.

He was surprised at what he saw.

"Well, look'it this, Charmeleon!" The Cinnabar Lost Boy laughed. He had a thick Australian accent. "I reckon we retreated in the wrong direction!"

Stepping forward boldly, Delia's fingers fiddled nervously. "Um, can I help you?" She asked.

Caught by surprise, the Lost Boy flicked up his new toy – a tommy gun. When he saw that he was greeted by a fidgety middle-aged woman though, he and his pokémon relaxed.

"Char..." the red dinosaur said with relief.

"Well, fancy that." The League soldier said, pulling back his hood, looking around at the defenceless medical station. He had draping locks of copper-flame blue hair, set with a pair of sunglasses like a hair pin. "Looks like ole Damian hit the jackpot."

"Um..." Deliah uttered, frozen in fear. What could she do? She was so out of practise at killing people! Mimey shuffled in front of her, broom out like a pike.

Damian ignored her. "All these Rebels with nothing but sheilas guarding them." He hoisted his tommy gun and advanced toward the tents. Some of the Chanseys had noticed him and called desperately for their masters. "If I go a little crazy, ain't nothing the sisters can do about it, is there, mate?"

Charmeleon, who appeared to have a vicious streak, chuckled, smoke drifting from his jaws. Desperate to stop the Lost Boy, Deliah put out a hand.

"No, wait!"

Sparing Mrs Ketchum a despising glare, Damian moved forward. "Deal with her, ay mate?"

Violence in his eyes, Charmeleon twiddled his claws and belched fire at her. Deliah squealed and covered her mouth and head. Mr Mime was quick, waving a stubby hand to spread a psychic barrier, warding off the stream of fire.

With the interloping woman pinned down, Damian drew closer to the field hospital in faith that Charmeleon would finish her and her useless pokémon. He lifted his gun and peered into the activity, discerning where to cause the most damage. If this went well he might even get a medal.

Dragged forward by a sturdy pink Blissey, one of the Nurse Joys appeared. Seeing the Cinnabar Lost Gym-Member approaching with malicious intent, the Celadon nun spread out her hands in futile hope to cover the entire camp with her body.

"Stop!" She begged, a rosary in her hand, hoping to dissuade the man. Damian snorted at the sight.

"Goldeen in a barrel..." he commented, preparing his gun to spray bullets over the tents, outside beds and nurses indiscriminately.

Willing though she was to sacrifice herself for the wounded, Nurse Joy didn't want to die. Squeezing her eyes shut in fear as Damian pulled the trigger, she flinched but held firm when she heard the gunfire. But she wasn't cut down.

Through her eyelids she saw a flash, and opening her vision, she saw pink. Some sort of field had been erected in front of them, the League killer's bullets bouncing off and punching into the dirt.

"Gah!" Damian screamed, collapsing to the ground and dropping his weapon. One of his shots had rebounded back through his thigh, severing an artery. Weeping, he pressed desperately on the wound, but there was already a puddle of blood and Nurse Joy's medical knowledge informed her that he would soon bleed to death.

Puzzled at the source of her sudden defence, Nurse Joy looked to Deliah and her Mr Mime, but the psychic clown was still holding the adolescent dragon's flames at bay.

"Bliss!" Blissey cried shrilly, pointing with her stubby arm. Joy looked over the large pokémon's dreadlocks and saw something pink and small dart into the trees. Taking in a deep breath, she kissed the cross on her rosary and thanked God.

Deliah was still in trouble. "Mimey!" She cried as her companion had his hands up, focussing on maintaining the barrier with his mental strength. Perceiving a weakness in Charmeleon's flamethrower, the clown pointed forward suddenly with a finger, launching an invisible confusion blast.

The mental assault struck Charmeleon dead centre of his heavy brow. The dinosaur's head tossed back, the constant torrent of fire was ended, freeing up Mr Mime to launch a second confusion, slamming the fire-type in the throat. The lizard fell, out like a candle.

Putting a hand over her fluttering heart, Mrs Ketchum was relieved, but the clown wasn't done. Vengeance in his eyes, Mr Mime advanced on the wounded Damian. The Lost Boy was breaking down, screaming for salvation.

"Goddammit, you're nurses! You gotta help me!" He screamed at the stunned Chanseys he had moments ago attempted to murder, fluidly dripping from his eyes, nose, mouth and leg.

Raising a hand, the psychic produced a barrier directly in front of his face, and Damian jerked back, recognising the bluish shimmer in the air. Tossing away his broom, Mr Mime lifted the other glove and with it a second psychic wall behind the Lost Boy.

A furious frown bending the clown's face, he brought both hands in at angle. Damian screamed all the louder as he was helplessly crushed to death. Deliah and Nurse Joy covered their mouths and turned away, but Blissey's eyes were locked on the horror, her mouth wide at the gory death, the sound of cracking bones and the strangled howling engraving into her mind for nightmares long into the future. Mimey pressed with his hands until all that was left of the League member was a paste.

"Mime." He said when done, turning away from his deed without pleasure or regret. Taking up his broom again, the clown took his mistress' hand, leading her away from all harm, physical or visual.

-- --

"Almost there!" Brock shouted encouragingly. He could see lines of light from the entrance to the Plateau. Just another fifty meters or so and they'd finally be out of this damned Victory Road.

The amassed Resisters around him fought with renewed vigour, longing for the light. Having come at last to the bottle neck, the various parties of Resistance reunite in the last push of this early stage of today's fighting. Fortunately it appeared the Pewter Gym-Leader had fallen back to the Palace, and the last of the Iron Guard in a fighting withdrawal.

Ducking back from return fire, Brock twirled behind a corner, back to the stone wall. Tracey was on the other side, keeping up fire. He had stumbled back into company with the Resistance leader battered but still battle-able. His Azumarill was spraying water in surprisingly effective covering fire.

Snap was on Tracey's side, standing back a bit and taking occasional shots and racking up a bill. He seemed slightly disappointed that he wouldn't be able to collect a bounty on Jasmine.

"How are we back there?" Brock asked Misty, who was facing backwards with her steel mallet at the ready.

"Good, good." She reported, bouncing impatiently. Given the nature of the Victory Road maze, League elements in retreat still ended up attacking the Resistance rear, and so she was assigned to watch this particular group's back.

Morty was with her, staring into space as he maintained his skull-ward in case Gym-Slayer tried her luck again. He was concentrating too hard to say or do anything else.

Seeing nothing in the darkness, the tomboy looked over her shoulder and thought of what was ahead.

_Ash is up there_, she told herself. _He's waiting for me on that throne. Or is he waiting for Gary?_ Her eyes drooped to the ground sadly. _What do I say to him? What I am meant to do?_ Sighing, she realised she was relaxing too much and shook her head, lifting up her hammer. _I hope Gary's alright._

Turning back to her duties, Misty was shocked to find The Bitch herself standing right in front of her. May, the brown-haired hussy queen, had snuck this close without her noticing. Relishing the chance to get the man-stealer back, the Water Master lifted her mallet high.

"Die!" She roared, only to have a large hand grab hers.

"Wait up!" Gary said, also coming from nowhere. "She's on our side now."

"What?!" Misty cried incredulously. Eevee came up to her feet.

"Ee. Vee." The pup agreed, his feelings in line with the Cerulean trainer's.

Eyes narrow, Misty glared at May, who had been her mortal enemy for years. The only thing that convinced her that the brunette had really thrown in with the Resistance was that no victorious smile pressed up towards her eyes. Stunning Misty to silence, May averted her eyes from the thin woman's azure look.

Head low, May passed humbly by the Champion's wife and Morty, and as she did so, Misty noticed the bandage on her cheek. The redhead was suspicious. Mrs Pretty never had so much as a mark on her – where had that injury come from?

Presenting herself before Brock, May was quiet while the Pewter trainer hadn't so much as turned around yet, focussing on the battle around the corner. Tracey glanced across, not recognising the incredibly attractive woman who was causing such a fuss. Clearing her throat, the former Elite Second drew attention to herself.

"Welcome back, May." Brock said, distracted, surprising everyone with how easily he accepted the high-level League trainer and old friend back. His narrow eyes were stuck on the fight. "We'll catch up later. Gary, can I get some fire support?"

Obedient from shock at the Rock Master's quick forgiveness, Gary joined him with his AK-47 in the crook of his arm. Eevee accompanied, spitting shadow balls at the well-dressed Iron Guardsmen.

May crouched down and watched for an opportunity to strike. Misty resumed her rear-guard duties, the two women's backs to each other.

"So," Misty started, with strained politeness. Bitterness was welling up. "How's Ash?"

Glaring over her shoulder, May's eyes were dangerous. "You cheated on him, how do you think?" She accused, not hiding her aggression.

Misty jumped. "I did not cheat!" She protested too strongly. Gary mouth tightened and tried to pretend he wasn't eavesdropping.

"Ladies!" Brock shouted, watching as a Resistance group from another tunnel charged in and the Iron Guard emplacement. Gary's Scizor and Arcanine were with them. Stone-Baron waved for the others to join in too. "Later, please!"

They barrelled forward as a group, Eevee streaking forward first. May spun her ring, taking the heads off three League troops before the weapon rebounded off several walls back into her hand. Misty scoffed jealously and kicked a shorter man in the stomach. Brock slammed an elbow into the face of a trainer from the Unassigned Corps and pushed on – thirty meters to go.

-- --

Nurse Joy needed to sit down for a moment – which no one protested, considering the shock of being attacked. Her relative from Viridian had things largely under control for now. Sitting on a rock, she was joined by Deliah, who hugged the pink-haired woman.

Joy hugged back, the pair comforting each other. Blissey was nearby, traumatised, and the two women patted her affectionately. Mr Mime stood by, a broom in hand, standing look out in his paranoid protectiveness. The nurse pokémon stayed clear of the clown.

"Are you going to be okay?" Mrs Ketchum ventured. Joy nodded, working through rosary beads.

"Yourself?"

The Champion's mother nodded. "It's been a while, but I've seen that sort of thing before."

Despite the subject matter, the nun couldn't help but smile. "The old world, huh? Same here." Deliah raised her eyebrows, considering Joy's younger age. "I was very little. And I wasn't always in a convent." With a sigh, the Celadon Nurse Joy regarded the small brown spheres she was passing through her fingers as she prayed internally. "And then there were the first wars. And then this one."

"Bliss? Blissey?" The egg-shaped pokémon asked shakily, rubbing the egg in her pouch defensively. Nurse Joy shook her head.

"No, I don't think it ever ends."

Deliah squeezed the younger woman. "Don't say that." She turned her eyes reassuringly to Blissey, not noticing Mr Mime grow tense. "There are a lot of people working to stop war ever happening again – like my husband."

A growl caught the women's attention. Looking up, they saw Mimey standing at the ready, broom out, and a wolfish pokémon emerge from the bushes. It was black with bony plates like armour over its hide. An inferno was in its eyes. As it walked forward, it seemed a cloud passed across the sun, flattening a shadow over them.

Swallowing hard at the sight of the Houndoom, Nurse Joy slowly stood to her feet, putting out her hands calmingly. Houndoom showed his teeth.

"I think I like the hopeless optimism better than the holy fool's rambling." Snapped a coquettish voice, biting into them like jaws. The shadow over them thickened, as though the day was being eaten away by night. "It's ironic."

Turning, they saw a woman emerge out of the shade of the trees. She looked out of place in midday, a short tight black dress and long white hair. Unsure if the pale woman was a ghost or human, Deliah and her company instantly saw that she was objectively attractive but actually ugly as sin.

Nurse Joy knew a demon when she saw one, and thrust out her cross bravely, challenging Karen to take a step closer. The Elite First choked back laughter.

Houndoom's growls grew in volume, and Mimey shuffled backward, aware his psychic powers would be useless on creatures of the darkness. Nurse Joy stood firm, but licked her lips as doubt worked at her heart. Karen bit at the air lustfully, a sharp bone-on-bone sound cracking the air.

"Such pretty ladies," Night-Whisper hummed, her palm pressing at her neck and sternum. Deliah felt her gut compress as the... woman-thing looked at her like a piece of meat. "Experienced..." The endlessly empty eyes turned on Joy, who desperately put her strength into holding up her cross, though she trembled. "...and untouched. The best of both worlds!"

Wiggling her fingers in delight, the trapped victims could have sworn that her black nails grow longer and more wicked. Blissey looked either way, from the twisted human to the brutal pokémon that sandwiched the non-combatants. Mr Mime jabbed with his broom as though it would scare off Houndoom.

Tension mounted, but neither Unmentionable nor her wolf approached closer. Deliah glanced from side to side, fearful. Karen still wore a smile and it oh so possible that this strange monster was just toying with them.

"Bl...iss?" Blissey whispered, hoping that her words wouldn't spur anything terrible. It brought Deliah into reality, and the older lady put her legs to use and stood.

"Can I... help you?" she tried.

Karen suddenly noticed something that the others couldn't detect and looked back over her shoulder, up at the height of Indigo Plateau. Her black lipstick was drawn back in a wider smile.

"Oooh, as scrumptious as you two vixens are, I think I've got a better offer." She suddenly announced, mystifying her almost-victims. "Let's hope I can bring this next one around to climax..." she shared conspiratorially with the nun with her cross, winking. Joy had no idea what Karen was talking about.

Slowly, Karen backed away, her actions mirrored by her terrifying Houndoom, the pair melting back into the shadows of the woods. As they went, a strange heaviness lifted and the light dropped down on them again. Joy let her arm drop.

As the all exchanged looks, Blissey asked the obvious question. "Bliss?"

-- --

Hand-to-hand combat. Guns and fire and fists and blood blood blood. Steel pokémon squealed and melted. The noise of fighting blurred into a cacophonous image of crazed bashing, kicking, killing killing killing and the Resistance reached madly for the beams of light before them.

Time squished, the entire macrocosm of Victory Road, its labyrinth, noise, lunacy and blurriness pressed down and contained entire in these few seconds as the final steps were forced forward.

Iron Guardsmen, Lost Boys, Unassigned Trainers fled, honour and courage not so much forgotten as stirred into the melting pot and ultimately lost. They piled into the door, pock-marked with gunfire, as the Rebels grasped like one many-faced beast, biting and slashing. The door fell away the light of day white with revealing power, showing to all the sick organs of the League machine.

"My god..." Tracey whispered, never so enamoured with the wonder of simple light.

May pushed into the sky, determined to follow through her snap decision and redeem that fragment of greatness in the great horror – the man and his Pikachu.

Eevee laughed in the glee of war, the highest place before him. Battle pure, battle supreme – his strength will rule all!

Brock prepared himself and charged through – the beast's head was beneath his boot, time to crush the skull. And then... him. "This is it!" Encouraged the general to his tired men.

Snap smiled and checked his rifle.

Morty abandoned his spell and peered through the sun, Gengar tracing his form. His goal, his end, was up here.

"Oh..." Misty moaned, her wedding ring heavy. Once she would have said that her love, centre and life was up in that palace, cap and cape clinging to his boyish form. But he had split into two, one half standing at her side, and the other on top of this mountain. Would there be wholeness here if she brought them together?

Gary saw Misty's shifting eyes, one on him and another ahead, wincing in his heart. With a breath, he looked up, imagining he could see him, Gary's teleological end in a man. Feeling the pokéball half in his pocket and the slap of the ying-yang necklace on his chest, he sprinted to him.

Him. The man, centre of the League, of Kanto.

Ash Ketchum.

-

-

**Author's Notes:**

And now we begin... endgame.

Change of plans, _next_ chapter will be last before epilogue, unless I decide to split it again. It's a big section. How'd _this_ chapter get so long?

Interesting factoid: I just discovered that Will x Janine shipping is called 'MindScrewShipping'. Sigh.

Also, I realised that I had been giving Daisy blue hair all this time instead of blonde. And that it's spelled 'Ketchum' not 'Ketchem'. Does anyone know if replacing chapters on will erase comments?

Please Read and Review!

**Beauty is Beauty:** Well, I hope not to frustrate you as the other tale did! Thank you. As for the confusion... well, I guess that's my bad. I didn't mean for the dinner scene to be so bad. And in the ditto bit, I sorta just left Misty clutching at 'Ash's' legs, then started the next scene as they turned into 'Gary's' – sorry that I wasn't clear.

**TJay-Dragg Latios-of-da-Cookie:** You have a very elaborate name.

Ah ha! I trump your geekiness with my own by claiming that Brock in fact _does_ have a mother, as was revealed in some later episode-or-rather. She's a water trainer, and tries to turn Pewter Gym into a water gym, to her husband's consternation. The English dub jumped the gun. Look it up, cha. :D Continuity isn't perfect in the pokémon storyline… (Not that it matters, since she's dead in this story anyway)

Anyway, I'm glad you like Gary, and sorry about Duplica. I've been a bit cruel with some characters… especially Professor Oak. I like the guy, I really did.

Bugsy is still alive precisely because we all want him dead.

Ivy… well, I was aiming for one, but now you're giving me ideas…

Thanks for your hours of dedication!


	30. The Siege Perilous 1

**Disclaimer**: Hasbro and 4Kids own, like, Pokémon and stuff, right? So, like, it totally isn't my property. I'm just, like, a totally over-obsessed, y'know, fanboy.

-

**Warning: This time around I pushed the envelope a little in some scenes. I can't remember what I rated this, but I'd call this pretty bad. If you're sensitive to nasty stuff, be prepared.**

**Grasping the Moon**

Chapter 30 – The Siege Perilous

Part 1

Even reinforced by the waiting Lightning Strike Force and Unassigned Corps, the League was punctured like a pick through thin sheet metal. Rebels and Rangers spread everywhere, injected up onto the flat of Indigo Plateau wiping clear any sense of battleline. Infused with adrenaline, goaded by their survival of the Plateau's subterranean craziness, Kanto's revolutionaries raged and grasped at the victory hanging just within reach.

Indigo City was one big brawl, every street a war and every room a fight to the death. Even the palace's defences were snapped in an instant, the close-quarters killfest washing into its elaborate halls.

"Go go go! We have them!" Brock shouted, sitting on the head of his Onix, the stone wyrm lifting him high. He waved his hands and sprinkled down orders, but at this stage things were largely automatic. The war was almost over. "Our home will be free!"

Looking around and seeing no immediate emergency that required his attention, Stone-Baron patted Onix to push forward. As Resistance Leader, he was burdened to stay back and command the troops, but he was keen to get to the palace.

_Ash is definitely waiting there,_ he said to himself, ducking down on his pokemon's skull and hiding behind his stone fin. Some brave Lightning Strike Forcemen opened fire with guns they carried from their home over the sea, but the bullets were useless on Onix' granite skin. _ The key to this fight is getting Ash._

Gary's Scizor swooped in and dealt with the Vermillion troops with calculated precision, and Brock looked up to the sky. The last dregs of the Viridian Airborne had taken to the air, in a last-stand dogfight against any Resister with a flying type. After all their losses, the League flyers were finding the balance more equal than they were used to.

"Perhaps I should I have flown our guys up rather than putting them through the tunnel..." Brock mused, but had no time for hindsight right now. "Though if we hadn't, would we have caught up with May?"

Brock felt no bitterness towards the bombshell – he was just happy that his friend was out from under Ash's spell. And there was no real risk of her being a League plant – it was way too late for that sort of play.

She had rushed directly towards the Palace with the other super-elites. It was like a race to see who found Ash first. Maybe May figured she could talk her old obsession into surrendering.

Sighing, Brock patted Onix to continue his slow advance. "Once again, I'm the only responsible one..." He bemoaned, continuing to manage the fighting of the small fry.

-- --

Blastoise hosed down between the houses, the massive water cannons on the turtle's shoulders washing way the entire street. As the Unassigned Corps and their colourful assortment of pokémon were pressed to the ground or to walls, some Celadon Rangers advanced around the flanks of the stream to finish them off.

Satisfied, Gary's starter pokémon cut off the pump and looked around. "BLAST!" He roared to himself in his booming voice, wondering if he would be stuck cleaning up weaklings over the course of this battle.

Rumbling a sigh, Blastoise advanced several steps down the concrete street, shaking the housing with every step. He stopped when he saw a red glow.

Beneath the feet of the Rangers he had assisted, from a sewer lid, a hot light shone. Steam was rising as the pool of water poured into the gutters. Reaching forward, the giant pokémon shouted a warning.

"BLA-!"

He was too late – the manhole cover was blown into the air on a jet of fire. The mountain coughed as the ground denoted with shaking sound. So intense was the explosion that it cracked the concrete like an earthquake, melting it to tar. Flames swallowed up the Rangers and the freshly dead League troops.

A scolding cloud of steam cloaked the pit in the street, the leftovers of Blastoise's attack evaporated instantly. Bursting from this cloud and figure shot from underground into the air like a demon.

"GRAAAAAH!" It roared, fire enveloping the winged figure as it dove down like a fire jinn newly freed from entrapment. Crashing into the street with such force as to smash the concrete again, Charizard shrieked in the air, spouting fire, backlit by the hell he'd just escaped.

Blastoise broadened his stance and lifted his thick fists. Even with the tallies of new scars, he recognised Ash's Charizard, his old nemesis. Ever since the red dragon had bested him while their partners had still been children, Gary's hard-hitter had shouldered the shame of losing while at such a type-advantage. A Blastoise beaten by a Charizard – unthinkable. Even winning their duel at the Indigo League Championships had not erased the memory.

"BLAST!" He challenged, indicating with his broad fingers for the Charizard to bring all he had. As the turtle expected, the dragon quaked with rage and charged in a violence-mad fit. Charizard flew low and collided with Blastoise cleanly, dragging the heavy pokémon into a nearby building.

As the walls and bricks fell around him, Blastoise smiled. Other than water over fire, his other key advantage was that Charizard was hot with insane passion, while Blastoise was cool-headed. As the fire lizard slashed and grappled, Blastoise steadied his cannons and shifted the aim for Charizard's face.

Dousing his opponent's face in water, Blastoise caused Charizard to scream in pain, a trail of steam suggesting the unending billowing of fire from his mouth tried to burn away the attack. It didn't work, but Charizard surprised the other reptile by twisting sharply, striking Blastoise's shell hard with his wing.

Rolling, Blastoise fell deeper into the rubble as the war-mongering dragon was freed from the torture of the water jet.

"BLAST." Blastoise cursed, rising to feet, debris tumbling from his brown shell. Eyes locking, the two old opponents glared.

_One win a piece,_ the water pokémon mused. _Time to break the deadlock..._

-- --

Scizor stood still over a crater, which formed the shallow grave of some Cinnabar Lost Boys who thought they could overcome Gary's cyborg with type-advantage alone. Gears whirred in the bio-machine's red chassis as he made numerical assessments.

_Targets: silent. Subjects: Cinnabar 1, Cinnabar 2, Chimchar, Magmar fell within threat level 2._ Scizor's internal measurements determined, looking down on the dead trainers and their red pokémon. _Likelihood of threat level-_ Its coding was interrupted as alarms sounded and lights danced inside the bug's eyes. _Movement detected, foe identified!_

Moving suddenly, Scizor swung a snapping claw, a boomerang of white energy slung out. A red cloak, almost perfectly hidden behind a crumbling building, was split in half.

Even though his master was dead, his Ninetails launched forward, her many thick tails spreading like a peakcock's feathers. The fox sprayed fire at the cybernetic pokémon as she pounced.

With blurring speed, Scizor sprung aside to avoid the flamethrower and back again as Ninetails landed, striking with its steel elbow at precisely the right point to break the beautiful pokémon's skull.

Two more dead, the metal bug resumed his data assortment as if nothing had interrupted it. _Danger resolved. Likelihood of threat level increasing: 0.7%. _Lifting its yellow eyes, Scizor looked to the sky, which was splattered with flying shapes tussling for supremacy. With so many of its teammates on the ground, the fight here was heavily tilted in the Resistance favour. The heavens were bereft of help from Gary's quarter, though.

Engines kicking into action, Scizor's wings buzzed with rapid flapping, and the cyborg hovered into the air and ascended at speed directly up. Stopping in an instant in the middle of the dogfight, the bio-machine assessed the situation, the occasional bullet bouncing harmlessly from his body.

Blood and feathers were everywhere. A huge stone Aerodactyl glided his ancient weight into a squadron of flyers from Hoenn, breaking bones on his broad wings. One trainer leaped from his bent Noctowl onto the pavement wings of the dinosaur, and beat at him with a thick club. The League pilot shot him and let he body plummet through the melee to the ground below.

Scizor's gleaning eyes noted this, ignoring a Pidgey breaking his beak trying to peck its steel back. Watching the chaos churn around him, the mecha-bug finished his assessment.

_Threat Level confirmed: 1. _Head revolving, the mechanical pokémon tried to identify the best League flyer logically to kill first. As its neck's gyros curled, Scizor's eyes highlighted a particular bird, banking towards the bug. Apparently a fight had found it out instead.

The broad bird was a Pidgeot, his long crest flittering in the wind. Circling the red machine cautiously, this flying pokémon also measured up his opponent. Mechanisms chittering quickly, Scizor's computer brain measured age, muscle development, bone structure and all Pidgeot's physical factors before ascertaining his identity and strength.

_Target identified. Subject: Pidgeot (Ash)._ Scizor broadened his legs and snapped his large sleek claws in preparation for a tough battle. The Guardian of Viridian Forest flexed his talons threateningly. _Threat Level update: 72._

-- --

Arcanine bounded with a hound's grace from home to home, peering into each window, hunting hiding League soldiers. In a kitchen he found some Iron Guardsmen, crowding around a Magneton. Drenching them in fire, Arcanine swiftly slew the Pewter trainers and melted their three-sphere pokémon. Leaving the smouldering remains to stain the white tiles, the burning dog leapt the fence and started across the street for the next building.

Gargling blossomed behind him, and the dog turned, crouched in preparation. "Arrr?"

Bubbles, in a great cloud, were propelled towards the large red hound. A smile pulled his white snout.

"Ar ar ar!" He laughed, seeing the weak attack, presumably launched by some pokémon hidden by his own watery creation. These eggs of air were doubtless explosively hyper-energised, like an airborne mine field, but Arcanine had dived into lakes and boiled them like giant saucepans – could a beginner's move like this even hope to injure him?

Yes, apparently, as the film contacted with his scalding fur and exploded with rippling force. The spheres clustered, and Gary's great fire-hound was battered around like a ball in a washing machine. Thrown back at the force of the power, the burning canine flicked his wide eyes in search of the pokémon to attack him in such a way.

In a garden, the green hedge whisked, and a red shape scuttled out from within, dragging a huge claw. Pointed legs twiddling over the grass, chattering like a teeth over as the new comer approached over the concrete, the large Kingler's primary claw scrapped along the road with the sound of a chair across the floor.

"Grrr..." growled Arcanine, recognising this pokémon. She was among Ketchum's troop, a Kingler with a penchant for sudden comeback attacks of great strength. This was bad: He was to fight a pokémon of this level at a type-disadvantage.

Snapping her great claw excitedly, the crab's eyes, set deep in chitin armour, scanned for any supporting elements. Detecting that Arcanine was alone, she raised her oversized right-claw high in the air.

Arcanine sprung forward into the air as Kingler hammered her claw into the street, spreading a spider web of fractures over its surface. The fire hound's claws were out and his flaming aura blazed thicker and larger in his battle-heat. Calmly, the crab scuttled away, avoiding the great dog with her unusual movements.

Landing and twisting, Arcanine howled and dove again, this time his paws were snatched up in Kingler's great claw. Squeezing and trying to powderise the fire-types bones, she clamped tightly, her mouth foamed disturbingly. Reacting fiercely, Arcanine poured on the flames.

Kingler was still flesh and exoskeleton, and she released the dog before her meat was cooked. Backed up, the female pokémon maintained a bead on Gary's underling. Arcanine was in pain, tenderly trying to keep on his four feet.

Clacking her smaller gimp claw, Kingler lifted her fore claw and opened it wide. White energy was spindled into a harsh ball of light. Seeing the blast in formation, Arcanine was able to roll out of the way as the hyper beam burrowed a trench in the street and punch through several houses like Styrofoam cut-outs.

Tapping the street in frustration, the crab watched as Arcanine dashed with aching feet into a nearby garden for cover. Following patiently, Kingler left a trail of rabid foam after her stout body moved over the shattered street.

-- --

Nidoking set his hands on the corner of a low office building and cried out for his mate to join him.

"Graa!"

Looking over, the more rounded earthen titan sighed at her mate's commanding attitude and threw the camouflaged man she had been crushing to the ground. Shaking the street with each advancing moving, she ignored the machine gun fire of the surrounding Lightning Strike Forcemen and the thunderous blasts from their electric pokémon.

Putting her large hands on the other corner of the office, Nidoqueen swept her thick tail instinctively, beating off the Vermillion trainer charging in from behind with a grenade. He was batted through the window of the next building.

With a wifely sigh, she raised her brow at the large Nidoking. He flicked his head violently at the trainers pooling in front of them with yellow pokémon, futilely intensifying their gunfire.

Cluing into his plan instantly, the pair as one pulled at the office, plucking up its back foundations like vegetables. The whimpering of contorting steel and convulsions of torn concrete drowned even the drilling of the Vermillion guns, and the League troops gaped in shock as the two pokémon pulled the building off-balance.

Retreating too late, the gym members were crushed under the office as the two ground lizards pushed it on top of them. Flattened with bricks and concrete, they left only a garden of rubble.

"Hur hur huurr..." Nidoking boasted, beating at his thick chest. His mate rolled her eyes before noticing some yellow movement.

"Murr." She pointed out, indicating with a clawed finger. A small Electrike had jumped through most of the debris, the spiked dog staggering away weakly. Flicking his wrist sharply, Nidoking sent a poisoned spike through the survivor's back.

Turning to advance onto the next group of League weaklings to smash, Nidoking indicated with a gesture of his spiked crown for his mate to follow. "Garr." She wasn't impressed with his behaviour, but obeyed none the less.

Shivering the glass in the cafe as they passed, Nidoking suddenly lifted a vicious hand to order Nidoqueen to stop. She was somewhat fed up with her love's arbitrariness, and planted her fists on her wide hips.

"Hur gaar?" She asked with exasperation, but, at the last possible moment, she noticed it too.

Throwing themselves clear, the two lovers avoided a sudden whirlwind of slashing appendages, slicing the air like whirling hedge clipper. Originating from the far side of the building, the cords whipped out with such sharpness and speed that they literally diced the concrete structure. Office slipping to pieces, a silhouette advanced through the dust cloud, raising itself over the ruins on long extended legs.

"Saur!" A stout green pokémon cried, setting himself back on the ground, withdrawing his long vines, the huge tropical flower mounted on his back shivering in his anger. He had been too late to save the elements of the Lightning Strike Force. "Ivy SAUR!"

Gary's two ground types rose onto their feet again and glared at the newcomer with clenched fists. Without even a consulting glance, Nidoqueen made a swift charge, but Ivysaur flexed some scaled muscles and sent hard, blade-like leaves spinning from between the leaves draping his back. The razor leaves slashed easily through Nidoqueen's stony defences, cutting along her ribs and side.

She fell back and Nidoking roared in rage, seeing rust-coloured blood on his mate. He trembled the earth as he barrelled heavily forward, only to have his attack countered from the side as a brown shell streaked in from his flank, propelled by a jet of water. The self-firing cannonball crashed into the side of the great lizard's face, shifting his jaw.

As Nidoking staggered, the shell spouted blue arms, a curled tail and a head. White Athenian wings flew by the turtle's face and sharp sunglasses hid his eyes.

"War!" The water type announced. Wartortle snapped his fingers confidently. "Wartortle!"

Gary's pokémon regrouped and assessed their opponents. A Wartortle and Ivysaur, both top-rung combatants by the looks of things. Preparing themselves for the next exchange of blows, the lovers watched as Ash's pokémon did likewise. The two lizard's were twitchy with animalistic rage, and Ivysaur had a serious business face, hard with fighting, but Wartortle smirked cockily.

"War," he commented, summing up the situation perfectly.

-- --

Things were heating up – Brock, from the crows nest of Onix' head, could see great explosions puncturing Indigo City from four different locations. Judging by the way Scizor was colliding with Ash's Pidgeot in a red streak overhead, Crumble-Heart figured that the Champion had set loose his brood of pokémon.

"Hm," Brock hummed, drumming his fingers on Onix's stone cranium. "What do you think? Would we do more good here or tearing up the Palace?"

Onix roared undecidedly and Brock held tight as the quakes passed.

"You're never much help with this sort of thing, are you?" Brock said to his pokémon before making a quick call. "Alright, we'll advance for now, see how Gary's lot hold up."

A thunderous reply rolled from Onix long throat, and the living boulder chain snaked forward, pressing through buildings and walls easily with his great weight. They didn't get too far before the Plateau began to quiver.

"I-I-is tha-a-at you-ou-ou?" Brock forced out, gripping to the rocky Mohawk on Onix' head. The rock-type was unable to answer before the street popped and blossomed, a long gleaming form drawn through the ground like floss through teeth. Onix backed up and turned his head to shield Brock with his crest. The Resistance leader looked around anyway.

Towering over the Pewter pair, much larger than even the giant Onix, was a creature of huge steel beads, gleaming like mirrors, held together like a necklace. Crowning this sequence of impenetrable segments was a head akin to Onix' own, save with a long bull-bar across his teeth as a mouthguard. The Steelix roared, knocking over houses and pushing even the tower-like Onix backwards.

On this titan's back was a woman, and while Brock was impressed that she had clung on unharmed as Steelix wormed through the solid rock flat of Indigo Plateau, he was more impressed with her untouchable beauty. Her hair was tied into imperial wings at her temple, and long bronze hair draped like a cape behind her pure white dress.

"Uh," Brock started, meeting Jasmine's arrogant stare and crossing his fingers behind his back. "I don't suppose you want to turncoat too?"

Sniffing, Jasmine's nostril billowed like a Tauros'. "Hardly."

She stood up in the saddle and jumped neatly for a near roof top. The moment her feet left Steelix's metal hide, the titan lurched forward and slammed into Onix stony trunk, splintering off large boulders. Brock both leapt and was thrown from his perch, striking the hard roof of a house, rolling painfully and almost tumbled down a crumbled corner. Digging his fingers into the dust-swept tiles, Brock anchored himself and got to his feet.

While not nearly so controlled as Jasmine's descent, Stone-Baron was still on his feet with only a few hits and a dash of dust.

_Onix__?_ He immediately thought, looking up to see how his pokémon was fairing. Not well – he and Steelix were tangling and smashing, rolling around the street and spreading League and Resistance troops like a raspberry jam. Brock swallowed the injustice of it all, and steadied himself.

Looking back, he saw Jasmine waiting for him where she had landed, like a distant harsh dream. Brock couldn't help the smirk on his lips and the blood rushing to his face. "The 'spoiled princess'-look works for her..." Crumble-Heart mused.

Bounding from roof to roof, he went to meet his replacement. She was unmoving but impatient.

"Hey beautiful-" Brock's greeting was cut off as Jasmine threw a sudden right hook and thunderously threw the much larger man to the roof below.

Choking in shock, Brock held his bruising cheek and stared up at the Iron Maiden, his narrow eyes almost becoming visible. _Pain – physical pain!_ It had been so long – Never had Brock the ex-Gym Leader of Pewter's defences been so easily ploughed through. His resilience to harm was legendary – and this dainty woman with an anorexic physique had knocked him down with one blow.

"I am Jasmine of Pewter." The woman declared, her hair and dress twisting in the breeze, but her eyes were hard, as though they were the only truly unmoving body in the universe.

Flirty smiles were natural to Brock in conversation with women, and he couldn't stop himself in time. The movement stung his cheek. Rolling onto his backside, he extended a hand. "Hi, I'm Brock! Now that we're introduced, maybe we could go somewhere and Oof!"

Jasmine's foot slammed the impure-minded Rock Master across the roof. Turning to follow his flight and advancing after him, she spoke again. "I am the Iron Maiden, Idol-Caster." She booted Brock in solar plexus, bending him in pain. "All-Smith, Forger." She bent at the hips and lifted a tiny fist over her head. "And Pounder."

Pounding Brock's head into the ground with the force of an ore-grinder, the Iron Maiden caused the roof to crack. Blood was running from Brock's nose as he stared up at the freakishly strong little lady in shock and bemusement.

_Here's a dilemma..._ he asked himself, drawing in a shaky breathe. _Can I hit a beautiful lady like this?_

Trying to push himself up, Brock was unprepared when Idol-Caster kicked again, pushing the large man towards the edge of the ceiling. The pain was new, but Brock could still take it. As she relentless followed, he lifted himself up and smiled at her.

"Hey, listen baby," he started, gargling the words at first before he spat out the blood. Why punch her when you could seduce her? "Maybe instead of fighting we could get married and have a buncha kids?"

Jasmine's face registered no emotion, not even offense or disgust. Her reaction was cold. "I am above such idle longings of the flesh." She stood over the fallen Resistance Leader a statue. "Nor have I plans to initiate child production."

Blinking at her frank and robotic words, Brock shook his marvelling head as All-Smith observed uncomprehending. "You are a very special lady."

Without warning, Brock launched forward and grabbed Jasmine around the waist. Forcing her to the ground with his superior weight and clasping her arms to her sides, Stone-Baron hoped to neutralise her devastating blows. Secretly, he also hoped that the feel of his body against Jasmine's would... warm her up to him.

No luck on either front, as Pounder pried opened Brock's arms easily. Surprised but still active, the Pewter native jumped back to his feet to avoid being head butted. Without hurry, the new Pewter Gym-Leader arose too.

Testingly, Brock threw a jab at the space in front of Jasmine, hoping to scare her away, as a compromise to his 'no-hitting-girls' policy. Surprising him, she advanced directly into the blow.

"Ow!"

Brock withdrew his stinging fist in pain, staring in shock at the unharmed Jasmine. He had just punched a girder.

Unmoved and seemingly invincible like some Old World goddess, she didn't even raise her fists in defence as she closed on Brock again.

Panting from fear, his breath thick through the blood in his nose, Brock backed down, the towering dark-skinned man before the thin, small woman. If anyone saw this, he would never hear the end of it.

-- --

In the Palace, May was working steadily through the halls. Sprinting tirelessly down the long corridor, she saw that the structure was increasingly broken and sprinkled with debris. Fighting was churning through the huge building, tossing irreplaceable artefacts and priceless ornamentations asunder callously.

"A waste..." she decided under her breath as she ran passed the bust of a long-forgotten pokémon master, his last legacy in the world smashed into a pile of gray chips.

There was an unspoken race to find Ash first, and knowing the palace and Ash's regular haunts so well, May figured herself at an advantage. She was intent to find him before anyone else. What she would do when she found him remained vague – confront him maybe? Convince him to surrender?

It beat the alternatives: Gary Oak, who might cause the universe to shatter if he and Ash had it out, and Misty. Though, now that she thought about it, there wasn't a reason to object to the tomboy being with the Champion anymore.

Actually, was there really any reason for them to dislike each other?

_If only things were as simple as a 'sorry I tried to steal your husband, let's be friends'_, May reckoned with a grimace.

A shout down the hall grabbed her attention, and she looked up to see a mix of Viridian Airborne trainers and green-clad Lightning Strike Forcemen. The group recognised her, Bugsy's underlings with catcalls, and but were ignorant of her change in colours. That was to her advantage.

Begin a long sequence of cartwheels and flips down the red carpet, the League troops paused, impressed at her display. Their admiration ended when her last flip ended in a chopping kick on the first Vermillion soldier's neck.

They scrambled for their weapons and pokéballs, but they weren't half-way ready before three more men were knocked unconscious by perfectly executed nerve-strikes.

"Buzz!" An Eletrobuzz shouted, the thickly built creature of yellow fur lurching forward to avenge his floored master. Upside down and mid-air while swinging her foot into a Doduo head, May cracked open a pokéball.

Electrobuzz's charge was interrupted by a red glow, which materialised into a towering figure clothed in crimson. He was tall and lithe with a long bush of straw hair down his back and a face like a stylised mask of a bird-spirit. Lashing out with a burning hand, Blaizeken scored a one-hit KO on the stocky electric type.

Operating in unison, May and Blaizeken beat the League troops and their pokémon out of conscious thought with a dance of showy martial arts. It was definitely martial _art_ rather than martial _science_ – several opponents were disarmed by the sheer wonder of their brilliance, marking particularly easy wins.

In a scant few seconds, May and her flaming birdman were in the middle of a hall littered with sleeping people. Checking, the Elite Second was satisfied that they were all knocked out and not dead. She exhaled in relief. It seemed wrong to kill people who only yesterday she was fighting side-by-side with.

"Sorry, boys." She said honestly. Earlier attempts to talk League trainers into surrendering proved pointless. Turning to her pokémon, she tapped her knuckles on the warm figure encouragingly. "Good work, Blaizeken."

A door burst open, causing May and her pokémon to spring to combat stance. They watched as a green cloak barrelled through boldly.

"Huh?" The Celadon Ranger said intelligently when he saw a woman, a rare Hoenn pokémon and a pile of bodies. Several other Rangers and a couple of Orange Island recruits bumped into his back and followed him in with their pokémon.

May relaxed. The Resistance troop may not have known the whole changing sides matter, or even recognised her, but she was standing over a pile of beaten League men, and 'the enemy of my enemy...'

"Wow..." The first Ranger, who had his bow and quiver slung over a shoulder while carrying a bolt-action rifle, said as his comrades looked over the bodies.

"Hey, they're still alive!" A newbie yelled. As one, they lifted their guns to finish the Leaguers, Glooms preparing razor-sharp leaves. May's pretty eyes went wide.

"No!" She shouted, starting forward. The Resisters looked at her, but even though she didn't want the League men to die, she had no response for them.

_I guess there's no point telling them that if I hadn't gotten here first, __these guys would have gunned them down the moment they blundered through that door._ May looked up to Blaizeken for help. The tall pokémon shrugged unhelpfully. "Um... mercy?"

There were a lot of sneers, but before eyes could return to sights, the light died. Everyone looked up in distraction at the light bulbs sucked of light like marrow from a bone. May's brow bunched.

_Did someone take out the generators?_ She asked internally. _But there's like five or something. Fail-safes or whatever, that's what Will told me..._

Something else odd struck May and she looked to her left at her pokémon. Blaizeken's fiery torso wasn't casting any light upon her, as though it was not just a lack of light in the room, but a presence blocking it...

She saw strange things wriggle on the wall, and the terrible possibility hit her. There was nowhere to back away from the dark shapes, as they were on both sides.

"Oh hell..." she exclaimed, though the others ignored her. Blaizeken was getting a very _bad_ feeling and crouched defensively, trying to increase the strength of his fire, but the darkness refused to retreat before his light.

The head Ranger ignored the sudden shade and resumed his business, raising his gun, the other Resisters and their pokémon taking cue. Targeting an unconscious Airborne flyer, he prepared to pull the trigger. May turned to stop him, but paused when she saw something shift.

A dark spear sprung from the wall, cutting through the Ranger's chest into the heart. As the hellish lance cut agonisingly down the man's torso, his gargling screams alerted his companions.

"What the hell-" one managed to eject before the storm began. Black blades swung from the walls, severing and piercing and goring, spraying blood and intestines in a blinding mist, painting over the screams and death. Even the League troops had their sleeping throats slit, the exact crime the Resistance forces had been about to commit. Blaizeken swung his broad hands, sweeping out a wall of fire to protect him and his mistress, burning away any attacking claws or flying entrails.

Covering her ears desperately to shield herself from the heat and noises, May clenched her eyes. Hissing through her teeth was only one curse; "Oh hell..."

Dropping the curtain of flames, May and her firebird were witness to the halls sudden transformation – they were now on set in a sick gore-flick. Blood and bits sprayed the walls, bodies of both armies shredded into pink lumps, stretched over each other. The Elite Second clasped her nose and mouth, but there was no protection against the exposed stench, like the sulphur of Hades. Turning green from illness and horror, her knees shook. Even her war-sharpened pokémon was without words.

Spontaneously in the middle of this snuff film was the ugliest thing in the world – the only thing perverse enough in all Kanto to enact this deed. The newly-recruited Resisters watched with churning stomachs as the abomination massaged the insides of an open ribcage in disturbing fashion while touching herself inappropriately.

May iced into a cold sweat, grabbing for the bladed discus in her pouch. "Oh _hell..._"

"Hell indeed." A licking voice whispered from the creature as she stood. Evil was in her lips and death in her hair.

"Karen!" The beauty cried to herself, like she had seen an ogre. The Elite First, Night-Whisper... the only trainer other than Ash ranked above the Hoenn Co-ordinator in Kanto. This was very very bad.

"Look at this!" The abomination gasped as her hands swum in her dress. Houndoom, the drooping black wolf, emerged from between her legs, a threatening hellish glow around his bone-crowned frame. "They say that Helen returned to the Greeks during the sack of holy Troy!"

_There's no escape..._ May knew, licking her lips as she danced her fingers over her weapon. _I'm going to have to fight her..._ Problem was, how? There was nothing in Max's books about slaying monsters.

Trying to buy time, she swallowed down the vomit pushing at her throat and circled, stepping over the amputated dead. Blaizeken mirroring her actions and the two of them keeping their eyes above the red, May spoke. "You killed your own people..." the Elite Second said, nodded down at the League corpses.

Karen laughed – a sound like a stab wound. May flinched but continued to move. Gym-Slayer's Houndoom was glaring hungrily at Blaizeken, an incomprehensible hatred laced through its eyes.

"You look like you're having fun." The brunette snarled, seeing the way the Elite First smirked and pleasured herself.

"I love it when holy things die!" Karen moaned quickly then bent, pulling tensely at her dress, unable to control her lusts. "Oh, skip the foreplay! I am _desperate_ to have you!"

Flicking at blinding speed, May sent her discus careening towards her old superior. It passed through the monster like a she was composed of some dark gas. Blaizeken ducked away from the circlet as it rebounded from the wall to the roof back to May's hand.

Karen was chuckling. Houndoom approached with twitching excitement May's firebird, knowing another orgy of violence and fire was soon to begin. The beautiful May rolled her jaw hopelessly, unable to identify any way of harming the pit-born evil.

"Oh hell..."

-- --

Morty found the room. It was off in a non-descript annex of the League Palace, far from heavy fighting or anything important. The surrounding halls were dusty from disuse, though Morty could detect a trail of footsteps that had recently ventured here. His sight beyond sight could see that these steps had been made by someone far bigger than a normal man – and he didn't mean physically.

Running a hand over the frayed wooden door frame, his finger flinched away when he caught a splinter. "This is it, huh?"

Booting down the rotten door, the Tomb-Raider entered into a forest's worth of paper. Morty looked around the room – there was nothing but bookshelves of ancient tomes and tall stacks of loose-leaf, and no source of light save for an unused lamp in the corner covered with tiny Sanskrit. A starry sky of amulets hung from above.

Enlivened by the thick atmosphere of esoteric secrets, Gengar unravelled from around the casual man's shirt, skating around the towers of dead secrets. Morty licked his quaking lips and set a tender hand on a sheet of browning paper. It was a black prayer by an armless voodoo cannibal, written in Kraken ink. Temptation charged the Eruteak Gym-Leader's limbs – here was a trove of black arts rivalling even the secret libraries beneath Ho-Oh's crystal bells.

_This is every wizard's dream_, he thought to himself, watching his ghost dance over the magic trinkets in the corner, sucking up the vast evil resting thereon. The power of the knowledge in this place...

"No!" Morty shouted, slapping the paper to the floor, where it was lost in the spread of a thousand discarded pages. To do that was exactly the opposite of what he came to do.

Advancing deeper into the room, pushing over several stacks of paper to psyche himself into resistance, the lazy-eyed trainer looked closely at his surroundings. The evil here was intense, but lingering, hollow...

"She's not here." He told Gengar in frustration. The black ghost looked up with a slightly broader grin that normal. "We're not staying." His pokémon's grin fell.

A chill wind fluttered the paper, blowing some spells around Morty's ankles. He knew what that meant, and turned to look out into the hall.

At the far end was the Hag. Agatha was still in her ornate chair, her face a melted candle, points of unending malice as eyes. Morty boldly exited her room, Gengar close at hand.

The moment he set foot into the hall, it changed, distorted by the old Elite's magic. The walls stretched on forever, horizons twisting into a nightmare from the mind for Escher. Colours fractured, bleeding through like competing dyes through fabric. Amidst this sudden wringing of reality, Morty was impassive.

"At last, the Mystic of Hell." He announced, stepping forward into the fluctuating floor, walking over the waves by his own spell-weaving. Gengar drifted behind the surfy's head, silhouetting his master's face with his black one, framing his blonde hair with the ghoulish grin of the otherworld. "I've always seen you in my nightmares."

Agatha had no tongue to speak words – she'd long ago sacrificed it for extended life. Her mouth fell away, revealing a broad empty smile that lifted the heavy folds of her face in a curtsey. As she laughed in hacking depravity, Morty could see that her mind was not so lost in the worlds beyond the other-worlds that she couldn't see his intention.

Rolling his shoulders, Morty closed his drooping eyes to steady himself for the encounter. Prepared, he drew his weapon – a small golden bell hooked around his finger.

"I'm going to wipe any trace of you from this world." He stated, as though lecturing on point of fact.

The world parted and a thick purple body strike out with blinding speed. The dagger-like fangs of a serpentine Arbok snapped at the space behind Morty's head. The Gym-Leader didn't flinch, and Gengar flew back out of the way of the bite, creating distance from his rival pokémon.

Arbok coiled back into the gap in space and appeared behind Gengar's ghostly form. Attacking from the rear, the snake bit wildly, but Morty's ghost was swift enough to dodge. Gathering magical energy, Gengar began a counter-attack, launching from his hands an otherworldly energy called 'nightshade'.

"Chaar!" his foe hissed as the unknowable force split the snake's head in half. Pleased at the swift victory, Gengar crossed his arms proudly.

Matters were not settled yet, though, as the two halves of Arbok's head quivered and filled out, completing the bisected fans, leaving the snake now two-headed. Used to far more bizarre sights, Gengar backed off again, only for both heads to unhinge their jaws and spew black acid over the ghost.

Poison sizzling weakly on his ethereal body, Morty's pokémon shook to rid himself of its toxic presence. This gave Arbok all the opportunity he needed to break physics again, this time lashing his thick body around the ghost. Normally Gengar could pass unhindered through any corporeal entity, but Arbok's scales glimmered a rainbow of unseeable colours, forming an impassable barrier.

The snake squeezed. "Gaar!" Gengar cried out, only to have the first of Arbok's heads bit down in his torso, the second clamping on his head. Poison ran in Gengar's organs, so the venom of the snake's fangs was no harm, but Agatha's pet's teeth were sheathed in power from the underworld.

Monitoring his pokémon without his eyes, Morty kept his sight forward. A strange mist formed around his feet.

"Whoever wins," He said, lifting a finger and setting it by his bell. "We lose."

Flicking lightly, he created a rippling, fragile sound. Summoned by the one-note song, a purple totem grew from the mist, built from screaming masks, each face Morty recognised as a childhood horror.

As the powerful figure stood tall, Agatha activated some unsaid incantation. Clawed hands groped up from the ground, like an army of zombies jealous of the life above. Levitating himself, Tomb-Raider projected himself forward. The Sorceress had hidden things snatch at him from empty air.

Seeing the spells that the League Hag was indulging in, Morty sneered. "You have delved too deep into Missingno's fogged depths." The only response he received was in the form of a monstrous talon grabbing his shoe.

Tumbling forward in the air, losing his footwear, the Resistance wizard rolled to a steady spot. Looking up, he saw that Agatha had somehow revolved her position to keep her unspeaking, hateful eyes on him. Snorting, the Keeper of the Burned Tower looked over to his left.

_That should be the spot..._ he convinced himself. Pushing to his feet and running, one sock, one shoe, he slid to the right spot and rung the bell, a deeper note sounding.

Unobscured by mist, another tower burst the tiles and grew like a flash-born tree. This one's weeping masks were all of people Morty loved.

About to move on before Agatha's witchcraft caught up with him, Morty was grabbed by a giant fist. Raised into the air, he was held aloft by a giant version of himself, crouching in the dimensionally distorted hall. It was definitely an image of Morty, but hunchbacked and deformed in all its features.

The Witch laughed again as Morty was pulled towards the monsters huge, slobbering mouth.

-- --

"For once," Misty said to herself as she watched Gyrados lash wildly in rage, knocking down walls and sending Unassigned Corps pokémon flying. "...I am glad this place is so big."

Her colossal water snake folded one too many support pillars, cracking the ceiling. The redhead darted back as the roof piled onto her pokémon, burying him and the League troops that had tried to stop her. Covering her eyes from the spitting rubble, she sighed.

Gyrados was pretty tough, she wasn't concerned about his safety, but before she could call out the water-type, a League Soldier grabbed her from behind.

"No freaking monster to save you now!" The heavily muscled man declared, squeezing his bicep against Misty's throat and leaning back. She was pretty tall, but this soldier was so big that her feet dangled.

Grunting in frustration, Misty cracked a bony elbow into the Leaguer's ribs. One of them cracked and as he shocked with pain, the lithe woman pulled free. The moment her feet touched the ground, she twisted and swung up a knee, slamming into the same rib again.

The Strong man stumbled back, but didn't fall. Seeing that he was pretty tough, Misty sniffed and lifted up her steel hammer. "Fine." She conceded, swinging out low.

Hooking the thick head of her mallet around his knees, she pulled the buff man way off-balance. As he bent forward, Misty coiled into the air and drove a sneakered foot down on the back of his head. The man struck the ground hard and was out like a talentless baseball player.

"Jeez..." Misty muttered, trying to brush some concrete dust from her hair. She shouldn't have bothered – Gyrados chose this moment to rise from the mountain of debris like a zombie, washing a new layer of dust over Misty's head.

Turning, she shot the sea dragon such a glare that the wide-mawed serpent reared back bashfully.

"Well, since you're being so _helpful..._" She said sarcastically, and Gyrados' eyes fled. Misty pointed with her mallet at the wall. The brief skirmish had blocked off her path forward.

Not requiring any more excuse to smash things, the roaring pokémon threw his long sinuous form through the bricks and mortar like it was rain. Misty followed her heavy-hitter through the hole as he checked the neighbouring hall for foes.

Drawing a dust-laden breath of air, Misty raised a pokéball. "Thanks," she said to the dragon, trying to be earnest, but still aching from the state of her hair – Ash was going to laugh at how she looked. The dragon was eaten up in red light.

Exchanging balls, the redhead summoned her faceless Starmie. The purple starfish spun viciously, preparing for battle. "Ha!" it cried, and Misty smiled at its gleaming gem-centre.

"I figure you'll be less likely to bring the Palace down on top of me. Come on." She explained, before heading down the hall. Starmie sliced through the air after her.

Working her thin legs hard, she did her best to guess where Ash would be most likely waiting. _Probably at the stadium a few floors down_, she figured, trying to map out a route that way. _I've got to get to him first – especially before Slutty McSlutinson gets her bitch-claws into him._

Of course, she should probably try and outrace Gary as well – who knew what would happen if those two were reunited? That pair, stabbing each other with their long hard swords, in and out, in and out, thick with sweat over their trained muscles, probably tearing off each others clothes in the fight's intensity...

_Oh great, now my nose is bleeding..._ Misty scolded herself, clamping a hand down on the flow. Slowing, she glanced around a bit. There – that room had a bathroom en suite.

"Hang on." She called to Starmie as she made her detour.

The flying starfish arched in flight and hovered at walking pace behind his mistress, curious as to why she was covering her face and pushing into the office. Looking around, she saw no one and continued through to the bathroom. Her pokémon drifted in after her, gem like an expressionless eye gazing uncomprehending as she stuffed wads of toilet paper in her nostrils.

Emerging, she addressed her pokémon. "Right," her voice was altered by her nasal quick-fix. "Off we-"

Cut off mid-sentence as a dozen white lassos erupted from assorted nooks around the room, snatching up Misty and her pokémon. Her hammer collapsed heavily to the floor as her arms and legs were pulled wide, while Starmie was held steady by several silky bonds.

Struggling against the gooey chains, Misty and her pokémon stared as Caterpies slithered from out of the dark places, each with a string shot of their own to entrap the pair. Misty shivered and fought back even harder. _Gah, it had to be _bugs_! Where's Gyrados to drop the building on them when you need him?_

The diminutive green caterpillars were weak and Misty was once Cerulean Gym-Leader, so she and her star started to fight back for the upper hand, the redhead inching her hand towards her pokéball belt.

Flapping broke into the room, and a diseased-looking Yamna fluttered up from behind a desk. The dark mosquito-butterfly cross secreted a glittering powder from her wings as she flew over the captives. _Oh crap..._ Misty thought, realises that whatever powder it was, it couldn't be good, and pulled back desperately, futily trying to escape the descending shower.

"No no no..." she growled through clenched teeth as he felt all her muscles grow loose, as though the invisible cords tying them to her brain had been cut. It took great mental and physical effort to even get her limbs to respond, let along fight the Caterpie's bindings. A paralysis powder...

"Hot damn..." wheezed a sick voice that caused Misty's backbone to squirm as much as the bugs. The Yamna circled back and landed on the desk again, as she did so her master stood up from his hiding place. He was short with a horrible haircut and a sick smile.

"I sure struck it lucky today..." Bugsy commented, adjusting his khaki shirt. A red and black Ledian was buzzing by his head

Mind blank with fear, Misty tried to burst free, but her arms wouldn't fight. At best she could twist her shoulders. The sick Bug Collector smirked at her attempts to struggle as he approached the taller, bound woman.

He licked his lips and the entirety of Misty's will spasmed with fear to urge her body to move. She managed to clench her fists. The dirty little man chuckled.

"If you touch me I will tear you into pieces!" Misty threatened, putting all the force into her words that she couldn't force into members. Bugsy glared.

"Not so high and mighty, are you now?" He said, punching her sharply in the exposed stomach.

Misty could still feel pain. "Gah!" Cried the Water Master. Bugsy let his hand linger over the skin of her stomach, gasping in pleasure as he felt the electricity hovering just over her skin.

"Oh..." He moaned. "This will be fun." His swarm of Caterpies contorted her stringy ropes with practiced ease, bringing her down to Bugsy's level and angling her to give him access. Misty's horror and desperation could do no more but look around for salvation that wasn't there. "Well, at least _I'll_ enjoy it."

Eyes wide, the prisoner shook as the sick trainer approached closer. "Ohgodohgodohgod..."

"HYAH!"

In rage at Bugsy's crimes, Starmie, augmented with significant psychic ability, effected a triumph of mind over matter and buzz-sawed through his bindings and streaked towards Bugsy violently. The greasy Viridian commander had no time to react, but the Ledian over his shoulder exploded forward with a hard counter.

Starmie was thrown back, but it would take far more than that to overcome the water-type. Unfortunately, as the star prepared to attack, Bugsy's Yamna was already overhead, raining down a powder that shimmered a different colour in the air.

Before it could react, the starfish was unconscious on the ground, trapped in a deep sleep. Bugsy stared as the pokémon fell to the floor, his Caterpies piling on many nets of sticky white goo, while Yamna watched over the fallen star, poised to drug it back into slumber should it stir.

"Woah..." the Bug Master sighed, wiping sweat from his androgynous face. "That almost went bad." Turning back to his victim, Bugsy waggled his eyebrows, causing Misty to tense fearfully.

Setting his hand on her strong thigh, the grimy bastard ran it slowly down towards her shorts. Misty's body tried to shiver more than physically able, freezing it up. Bugsy's lustful grin returned, his eyes vomiting ideas of all the different manners he could have his way with her.

"So, where were we?"

-

-

Continued next chapter, as you may have surmised.


	31. The Siege Perilous 0

**Disclaimer**: Nintendo and 4Kids own, like, Pokémon and stuff, right? So, like, it totally isn't my property. I'm just, like, a totally over-obsessed, y'know, fanboy.

-

**Warning: This time around I pushed the envelope a little in some scenes. I can't remember what I rated this, but I'd call this pretty bad. If you're sensitive to nasty stuff, be prepared.**

**Grasping the Moon**

Chapter 31 – The Siege Perilous

Part 0

Everything was falling apart. Ash sprinted through the decimated halls – halls once painted with artistic marvels, fitting for the greatest kingdom on the planet, halls he had built himself. Now instead of memoirs of Pokémon Masters past, the corridors were rimmed with slabs of debris, and instead of chandeliers, there were holes torn by artillery strikes.

"My beautiful Kanto..." The Champion groaned, Pikachu grimacing from his mount on his caped shoulder.

"Pikapi." The rat started, but stopped when a group of Resisters appeared from around the corner. The thunder-mouse winked out three lances of lightning, drilling holes in the chests of their pokémon, while Ash thoughtlessly diced the trainers with his black katana.

Proceeding passed the fresh corpses so quickly that they hadn't even identified their Gyms or pokémon, the Champion and his pet continued their mad search in the crumbling palace.

"Pikapi," Pikachu started again, pulling at his master's black hair tenderly. "Pika pika. Chu Pikachu."

"Of _course_ I am!" Ash exclaimed, stopping and collapsing against a wall. There was a dead Lost Boy, embracing his equally dead Typhlosion against the opposite wall, having bled and died together.

Squeezing his eyes and pressing the bridge of his nose, the Great Kanto Trainer tried to hide the sight from his eyes by dipping the bill of his hat. His friends, his pokémon, his troops, his people, his _Kanto_ was dying. This wasn't how it was meant to be – wasn't he the Chosen One? Wasn't he going to fish the moon from the night sky for his friends?

"I am, I am!" Ash insisted against Pikachu's point. "I have to find him, or else what is this all for?!"

The stress was building in him, and he slid to the ground a moment, black cape caught on the wall behind him.

"We have to fight him, right? That's what it's all about isn't it?" Ash buried his face so deep that even Pikachu on his shoulder couldn't see it. Bounding down onto the ground to look up at his trainer, the pokémon squeaked questioningly. Ash hiccupped.

"But... but Misty..."

With an ear flopping, Pikachu watched helpless as his master shrunk even deeper into himself. Nothing mattered to the yellow rat more than the happiness of his friends, but it seemed lately that no one was happy. The pokémon nudged at Ash's shins, unable to do any more.

An explosion from somewhere above shook the hall, and forced Ketchum to raise his head. Looking around at reality instead of the darkness inside, he found his own attitude mystifying.

"What am I doing?" He asked the air. Pushing himself to his feet, he took several steadying breathes. Pikachu wiggled his nose, uncertain. "All I have to do is win."

That's right – it didn't matter how grossly over-stacked the odds were, destiny could not be diverted. So there were enemy troops all over the Plateau like Combee in a hive. So traitors were thick as Grimer spit. The dream would succeed. All he needed to do was be Ash Ketchum – and, hey, he was an expert at that.

Broadening his shoulders, the light ignited behind his tear-ready eyes, Pikachu watching. The Great Kanto Trainer was on his feet again, glowing as the living soul of the League.

A scent – old but so familiar – rubbed against Pikachu's snout. He looked down the hall, and Ash followed his pokémon's gaze. It was the entrance to the Gym-Leader meeting chamber, the annex to his great Indigo City Pokémon Arena. The doors had been torn off the hinges.

_It's him!_ The supreme trainer thought, and with hope in his heart, he hurried over to the entrance, Pikachu with him.

Inside was dark as always, but they were not alone. At the far end of the long oak table that dominated the room, was a sitting Eevee, and next to this dog were two feet with dark shoes. They belonged to a tall man with purple pants and a nice black shirt, a green and yellow ying-yang necklace settled on his chest. He was rolling half a pokéball in his fingers.

Ash couldn't help but smile as he looked over Gary Oak. He was long and strong, ready for battle. His Eevee was in immaculate condition, a healthy shine on his fur.

Those brown spikes, that long face, those haughty eyes – every detail heavy with a lifetime of rivalry and competition. Finally Ash had found his other half. He was beautiful.

Their two epics of adventure intersected so many times, and at last had come around again for another collision – a match so huge, so incredible that it would springboard the winner into the giddy heights of mystic perfection – the victor would glow like the moon.

In the euphoria of reunion, the strangest thought went through the Champion's head – at least it had been Gary that Misty had cheated on him with. Ash shook the heresy from his mind.

Pikachu leapt onto the desk and locked eyes with Eevee immediately, hissing as sparks bubbling from his red cheeks. "Piiikaa..."

Eevee responded in kind, while Gary raised his eyes from the pokéball half.

"You're late." The Pallet trainer stated.

Ash scoffed. "Late? I've been waiting here the entire time." Digging into his jeans, the Chosen One took out his own pokéball half. "I'm not the one who took the scenic route with Brock."

Looking again at his rival, the only man who could threaten him, Ash saw that instead of seating himself down here at the _Seige Perilous_ that he had set up specifically for Gary, Oak was in the Champion's throne. Laughing in his throat, Ash tossed his pokéball half at Gary.

Oak caught it in the air with his free hand, and compared the two halves, one red and the other white. Lifting his face back towards Ash, Gary looked the Champion over.

Misty had been right – he was buff, heavy with raw strength. His cheeks were still round, and his grin still large. Black hair still a mess, still crowned with a cap, still short – it was like Ash hadn't changed since their childhood. The tall man couldn't stop the cocky smile pushing his cheek. Finally, Gary had been found by his other half. He was beautiful.

Eevee's hair was on end, the dog glowing with intense power. His master felt similarly excited at the prospect of fulfilling his life in this final, glorious fight. Without fanfare, he slotted the two pokéball halves together.

It was just a rusted old pokéball – entirely worthless. Gary held it up to present to Ash. The Champion nodded in appreciation.

"Cool."

Rolling his head back Gary didn't know if he could take the pressure anymore. All those years, all that build-up, and now it had finally come to its full completion, they could only stare at each other and exchange casual conversation while their pokémon made scary faces?

Tossing the ball away like the rubbish it was, the challenger lifted his feet from the oak table.

"We should finally get started, hey?"

Ash pointed. "There's a door behind you."

They filed through, Eevee and Pikachu never letting their eyes leave each other. The two pokémon attempted to intimidate each other with auras of power, almost like children.

Champion and Challenger passed close to each other as they moved through the door, and as they did so the taller man noted the shorter up close. Ash truly was radiant, even his scent was sweet with perfection. _I can see why Misty married him_, Gary thought.

Together the four of them entered the Championship Arena.

Unused to the sudden shift from narrow halls and to vast expanses, Gary paused a swift moment at amazement at the space. Ash had largely maintained the decorum of the Indigo League Stadium from the days of before the first wars. Everything was exactly the same as when Gary's brief time on the Championship throne had been taken by Ash, back when they were teenagers.

The seating of this colosseum climbed high beyond the lights, bitten by the darkness above. All the explosions and savagery of war was sealed off in here, as though the grandstands and silence lopped this arena from the rest of the world – their own private universe.

"Hn." Gary said while Ash, who was used to the cavern, walked across the grounds. At his own pace, Gary followed.

Even though the object of his obsession these long years was in front of him, Gary couldn't take his eyes off the assembled ranks of plastic chairs surrounding the pair as an army. Despite the fact only four were present, the stadium didn't feel empty, like it was heavy with unhearable cheers.

Gary took his position at one end of the field while Ash continued on to his. Eevee dug at the grass, eager for his fight, while Pikachu glared over his shoulder as he pursued his master.

"Just a little longer, Eevee." Gary whispered to assure his pet.

The dog snorted and growled through his teeth. "Eeeeeveee."

Eyes wandering the stands, Gary flexed his nostrils. "As if it's easy for me to say – I've wanted this even more than you have."

There were people in the audience – dead people. Ghosts unseen shouting inaudibly, amazed at their luck to get such good tickets to the title match! Squinting at the unoccupied seats, Gary recognised their inhabitants – all the people he'd murdered. Lt Surge, Falkner, Ritchie, and so many more. They had come to... cheer for him?

"Weird..." Gary muttered, drawing a glance from the pokémon at his side.

But not all the seats were occupied by his victims. Were there others he couldn't sense? Oak's eyes went to Ash, who was almost at his marked trainer's box, and wondered if his rival saw all the people he'd killed up there cheering him too. But hadn't Ash killed millions?

_Nah,_ Gary reasoned with himself. _No-one can kill millions, hey? You can be _responsible_ for millions dying, but actually killing people, face to face?_ He glanced once more to the audience as Ash arrived at his destination. Gary fancied that half the stadium was his and the other Ash's.

"Alright," Ash shouted from where he was, turning his cap backwards to show a skull. Pikachu stepped forward into the marked battle area as the Champion readied his black katana in one hand and his M-16 in the other. "You ready?" Gary drew his long sword and gripped his AK-47. He shook the blade. "Okay, we start on three. One..."

Eevee jumped forward into the large battle rectangle, the white flames over his body billowing up.

"Two..."

Windmills of lightning were spinning around Pikachu's tiny form, shredding the soil under his paws like a berserk Sandslash digging for worms.

"Three!"

Launching themselves forwards so suddenly that they tore off punching sonic booms and ripped chunks from the ground, Pikachu and Eevee vanished, immediately exchanging blows at speed too fast to see. For their master's part, they sprinted directly at each other, blades at the ready to finally find who was stronger – Pride or Fate.

-

-

Continued next chapter, as you may have surmised.


	32. The Siege Perilous 2

**Disclaimer**: Nintendo and 4Kids own, like, Pokémon and stuff, right? So, like, it totally isn't my property. I'm just, like, a totally over-obsessed, y'know, fanboy.

-

**Warning: This time around I pushed the envelope a little in some scenes. I can't remember what I rated this, but I'd call this pretty bad. If you're sensitive to nasty stuff, be prepared.**

**Grasping the Moon**

Chapter 32 – The Siege Perilous

Part 2

Bruises and blood – Brock was not having a good time of this fight. Scooting away from the edge of the building, the Rock Master tried to slip around his bony opponent, but Jasmine drilled an iron fist into Brock's hard stomach. He bent double and stumbled back.

"Hey..." He gasped. "If you wanted to get up close and personal..."

He was cut off as the Iron Maiden swivelled on her feet and planted a shoe in his chin – affording the Stone-Baron a glimpse up her dress. He collapsed on the ground.

Curled up in pain, Brock twisted his head and stared up with his small eyes at the small Gym-Leader towering over him like a colossus. Wiping the blood from his lips proved pointless, as the blood from his torn knuckles replaced it – his attempts to ward off Jasmine's unrelenting advance with warning blows had been met with her face, leaving Brock with cut fists and her with small specks of blood on her chiselled cheek.

The ground quaked, not phasing Idol-Caster in the least, though Brock turned to look at the ongoing lynching Steelix was operating on Onix. Onix was not a complex fighter – he was strong and tough, so when he meets a pokémon stronger and tougher, he ends up in trouble.

Steelix was repeatedly slamming his unthinkable metal weight into Onix' body, and many large rocks had cracked from the stone snake's body. Brock's primary pokémon had managed to smack a few dents into Steelix shimmering coating, but it was far too little. Their writhing exchange of tackles had flattened the entire neighbourhood, and many soldiers – rebels and leaguers alike – had been pressed to death in the struggle.

Brock looked back up to Jasmine, who was in no hurry to kill him just yet. "Hey," He said through the blood. Spitting out the contents of his mouth, he went on. "Your pokémon is smooshing your own men."

Jasmine was unmoved. "The higher priority is to eliminate you." She said mechanically, reaching down and grabbing the man she replaced by his thick vest. With inhuman strength given her pipe-like arms, she lifted Crumble-Heart to his feet.

_This is going nowhere,_ Brock thought as he was hefted. _I'm pretty hard, but I'm soft on the inside. She's steel all the way through._ Despite how distasteful it was to him, Brock was left without another option.

Reaching behind his back, Brock drew his pistol on the woman who was beating him so badly. Pounder had demonstrated no weapons other than her amazing resilience and strength – a bullet could decide this easily. Pointing it at her, he hoped to scare her into surrender.

Instantly, the moment she was aware of his intention, Jasmine lashed out with her hand. Grabbing the shaft of the weapon, she squeezed, snapping the hard plastic until there was nothing but a handle and a dangling mechanism.

Brock was impressed. "Wow!" He declared, a little punch-drunk. "You sure know how to handle a man's –"

A hook like a jack-hammer collided with the Resistance Leader's cheek, once again introducing him to the floor. He rolled to the edge of the building and the remains of his firearm clattered, bouncing over.

"Hey, we're both Pewter Gym-Leaders..." the words tumbled from Brock's mouth without the involvement of his brain as he pushed to all fours. "Maybe we could get along... perhaps over dinner and a movie...?"

_What am I saying?_ Brock thought, staring at the roof, to the inch in pain, overriding even the tactile sensation of the chipped and dusted tiles underneath him. All he could smell was blood. _I'm going to die this time..._ He could feel Jasmine approach. _I'm actually going to die..._ He slowly realised, raising his head as much as he could manage to look at Jasmine's pretty ankles. _ But can I hurt a girl?_

The world shook violently, causing Brock to fall again, his head dangling over the edge of the building. Jasmine's footing was unshaken.

"Wha?" Brock turned his eyes and saw Onix had been thrown into the base of their building underneath him. The snake was so beaten that he couldn't find the will to fight back anymore. Blotting out the sun, Jasmine's fierce Steelix hulked over the pair.

A light shoe was set against Brock's collar bone. Jasmine looked as though she finally intended to finish things, having fully asserted her superiority as the new Pewter Gym-Leader. All that remained was to consider whether to squeeze off her opponents head or kick him from this height. She noticed tensely that Stone-Baron's eyes even now were seeking a view beneath he folds of her dress.

"At last I shall be rid of you." She stated coldly. "This war has been one long interruption of our economic output. When you are eliminated, we may resume the symphony of numbers and production, and I will rise on the upward spiral as a Pythagorean goddess."

All of this was gibberish, but to Brock's ears the words sounded enchanted. He observed this in himself with disgust.

_She's about to pop my head off and here I am thinking like a school boy with a crush_, he sneered inwardly. _This is exactly why I could never make it work, with Melissa or anyone else – I never treated women like people. I objectified them; I idolised them._

Pressing her foot forward from collarbone to throat, Jasmine shifted Brock further over the edge and bent his back over the corner. She decided that she might try breaking him in half while choking him. Her Steelix watched with approval.

Fight-or-Flee instincts mixed with a bit of growing up, and perhaps a dash of desperation to find Ash, all mixed together inside Brock's chest with the blood and became a decision. He gargled underneath the Jasmine's sole.

"You know," He forced out. "The flames of the heart can melt even the strongest armour..."

Seeing that Brock was once again attempting some feeble seduction, Jasmine very almost rolled her eyes in a human display of frustration. He was like the Rebel version of Bugsy. She leaned towards him and opened her thin lips.

"And what if I was all armour?"

Despite the lack of air and abundance of hurt, Brock smiled with his cracked lips. "I wonder..." he responded, flicking his arm.

Jasmine flinched with surprise to find that Stone-Baron had slowly snuck his hand to his pokéball belt. Before she or her iron giant could react, the ball was in front of her face. Brock pushed against the roof and went tumbling down towards Onix below him.

"Forrestress!" He shouted mid-descent, as the hard spherical pokémon emerged in red light. With instant understanding bordering on the precognitive, Onix sprung into action to receive his master.

Wide-eyed, the Iron Maiden stared at the huge pinecone hovering before her, and Steelix twisted to take some sort of action.

It was too late for them. As Brock was swallowed by the curls of Onix' invulnerable body, he gave his solitary order: "Explode!"

All was fire, and steel melted in its heat.

----

Will observed unfeeling with his mind's eye as the Rebels around the corner gaped while their pokémon were strangled and their guns plucked from their grips by invisible hands. After using the hovering weapons to shoot the humans, Will teleported into scene of death, adjusting the waving scarf about his neck.

"I can't turn the tide by myself..." He bemoaned, looking over the dozen dead and adjusting his glasses. "This is not good."

That was an understatement. Aware of the big picture, playing out like a movie on the inside of his skull, the psychic could see everything going to pot. Strategically, the fight in Victory Road had been the League's last stand – Now Rebels were all through Indigo City and the Palace. The League's few remaining Gyms were scattered and pulled apart piecemeal, while the last of its foremost warriors were duelling to the death instead of doing anything useful. Surge's notes would predict defeat in these circumstances.

Rolling down his thick hair in the stress, Will couldn't help but acknowledge May had made the right move by joining with the Rebels. He didn't hold a grudge – there was no reason for her to die. _She may not have been the _closest_ friend._ Will thought. _But it was fun to hang out. It's not like there were many people for companions up here._

Staring at the cracking ceiling, a dead smirk tugged his lips. "Plus, she's pretty hot." He muttered aloud with a humourless chuckle. _Well, with Janine no longer about, there's nothing to stop me appreciating other women, right?_ He hated himself for even thinking the thought.

Mental alarms went off in his head, and disappearing in a white flash, Will teleported behind a party of Rangers in a nearby corridor. Before they could even react he threw out a psychic wave that smashed each of them hard into the walls. One wasn't quite dead, so he psychically twisted his head and snapped his neck.

"Maybe I should surrender..." the nerdish man considered, staring emptily at the men and pokémon he'd just killed. "I mean, it's not like we can win."

He reflected for a moment.

"Nah," he said at length. "We still have the Boss, right?"

Conviction was lacking in his words. Everything he believed about Ash Ketchem was true – where a person was lucky to have even a cobweb of destiny lay over his shoulder, the Great Kanto Trainer was so wrapped, sealed and reinforced with destiny's cords that he looked like a walking ball of yarn the size of a mountain to the psychic eye. He would overcome in the end – of that there was no doubt.

But slowly all the little assumptions Will had made along the way were closing their tiny jaws over him like a swarm of Remoraids, his doubts nibbling in preparation to ravage. Even with the support of fate, was it right to be at the Champion's side during all this? Was it _this_ kingdom in particular that would be the fulfilment of that destiny? Was a man at the pinnacle of providence always right in everything he did?

These questions bothered him now – the Boss would be alright, he knew, but there was no guarantee on Will's safety. The Kanto League had failed – there was no reason for Will to stay here. He could just teleport a thousand miles away.

Vexing silence lazed about as his feet remained firmly anchored in the physical world, and Everywhere-Step stared at those corporeal shoes sorrowfully through his large glasses. In the end, he was just another moron. Scoffing at himself and shaking his head, Will rubbed his fingerless gloves against his forehead.

"Dammit, Janine..." The geek huffed, unsure whether to cry, laugh or bite his wrist off. "You and I... we're just the same."

A man walked around the corner down the hall. Will wasn't surprised, he'd been aware of the Rebel's approach.

Bulbous shoulders pulling tight on a shirt of red and white stripes, this soldier was visually intimidating. Red hair hang about his face like drapery, and a cigarette dangled apathetically from his lips. There was a soul-less, bitter disdain in his eyes and a long sniper rifle in his hands.

Will declined to kill the man the moment he became aware of his existence because he glowed with more significance than the standard soldier and curiosity got the better of him. "Who are you?" He asked the newcomer.

Taking his sweet time, the vicious-looking man dropped his smoke and ground it out.

"Todd Snap." He answered, looking the psychic up and down. "Gun-for-hire. 'If they're not dead in one shot, you get a discount'." 'Snap' nodded assessingly. "I reckon you're worth a handful."

Narrowing his eyes at the sniper's arrogance, Will flicked his chimney-sweep gloves at him. "A mercenary, figures. So where's your pokémon?"

Snap smirked, and the look of it suggested that this wasn't a man who smiled often. He waved his gun. "Rifle, I choose you."

Will had nothing more to say, and when the rebel hireling saw as much, he reached into his pouch. The bookworm's eyebrow bounced when he saw Snap withdraw a black bullet, inscribed with hellish runes and coated in malicious spells. The psychic was silently impressed as he watched his foe load the round into his gun.

Recognising all the sorceries etched into the special ammunition, Will decided it wouldn't be necessary to summon his cloud of Unown. That bullet would be easily sufficient to take down even a relatively talented psychic, but Will was the Fair-Tongue, the Thought-Poet. Its power was something he could handle without fuss.

Snap raised the scope to his eye and was mildly startled to see that the Saffron Gym-Leader hadn't even moved. "Not going to try anything?" the photographer asked. Will shook his head. "Suit yourself."

Pulling the trigger, Snap sent his magic bullet flying. It crashed against the thick psychic field forcefully, churning up brutal blue winds. Light pieces of debris were kicked up, and the recently deceased were shifted from their places.

"Hn." Will grunted as the bullet proved more forceful than anticipated. It advanced fractionally through the thick bubble of his mind's strength.

Unwilling to be further surprised, Argonaut braced his legs and thrust out his arms to assist focussing a counter-force against the magic bullet. Squeezing his forehead, he put all the powers at his disposal into repelling the sniper's shot. The winds ravaged harder.

Lowering his weapon and setting its butt on the ground by his foot, Snap casually fished around in his pockets for a fresh cigarette. He wasn't even watching anymore.

"Gah!" Sweat was staggering down Will's brow. The kick-back gales from the meeting of these two forces had grown so strong as to grab at the scattered bodies, picking them up and dropping them as though with slippery hands. Despite pressing all his strength into the purple shield, the bullet stubbornly refused to be halted.

_I know those spells well!_ Will assured himself. _There is no way they are this powerful – something else is pushing this projectile..._

The round curve of his glasses revolved and set on the sniper as he found a box of tobacco-sticks in his pocket. Will's eyes tensed.

_That man! _He realised. _He is forcing the bullet on!_ Further black revelation axed into his brain and his eyebrows strained at the impact. _ Or rather, the emptiness of his soul feeds it strength!_ Will grit his teeth. Just how corrupt a person must this 'Snap' be to test the Psychic Master so hard?

For his part, Snap had propped a cigarette in his lips and was seeking a lighter.

Bodies were flying in the purple torrents as the full measure of mental force was ripped from the capillaries of Will's labyrinthine mind and hurled brutishly against the tip of that single bullet. Its pig-iron form squeezed through the ethereal violence, the power sailing over its sleek form and spilling to the hall beyond. The walls were sucked and blown, the dead rebels and their pokémon twisted as though in a tornado. Debris circled in a chaotic fashion, crudely parodying the ordered if otherworldly sequences of Will's cloud of Unown.

Calmly trying to ignite his smoke in the midst of this storm was Snap, barely even noting the struggle between psychic and doom.

Escape was impossible for Will now – he was far too heavily dealt into a direct defence to teleport away. Mystifyingly, he was losing – the bullet pressed on.

"No!" Will cried from between his teeth.

_I cannot die here!_ He shouted at himself, as though to scare more power out of his already over-taxed strength. There were memories in his head – of his first beatific vision of Ash Ketchem, of view of Kanto from the uppermost peaks of the Indigo Plateau, of Janine on the roof at Saffron.

_My life... before my eyes..._ he noted to himself. It was a very bad sign. _I won't let this beat me!_ Janine's head bowed as she chose madness over love, that same head in the orange grass, her body meters away.

His brow folded from total focus to deep-laying sadness. Suddenly the thought of a bullet didn't seem so painful, and his eyes lolled distractedly as he looked at the crumbling palace and the countless dead, inside and out. The Boss' lofty dreams, beautifully ridiculous, stomped over by soulless, artless sub-humans like the sniper in front of him.

A moan and a giggle, married in sudden insanity, twisted from his scarfed throat. He had so many doubts...

"What the hell am I trying to live for?"

The moment despair pierced his heart, so too did the bullet. He hit the ground and instantly the gale ceased, the airborne rubble and refuse collapsing after him. Snap found his lighter.

"Hm." He intoned, putting fire to the end of his cigarette. "I guess I'll discuss numbers later."

Lifting his rifle, Snap left the bodies and sought the greater bounty – the greatest. Will's scarf peeled out flat, its owner unmoving and unrecognised.

-- --

Bugsy's insect minions watched dead-faced, devoid of curiosity or repulsion, but their eyes cemented on their master and his prey like monstrous gargoyles. This may well have been something they had witnessed so many times before that it appeared mundane. Were it not for the more consuming horror upon her, Misty may have had more capacity to shudder at that one.

A high wail, like a tortured Meowth, shivered up from Misty's throat as Bugsy's dirty fingers flicked at the yellow fabric of her daisy-dukes. The sick freak's paralysis powder had taken affect on her body, and rendered her own limbs useless to her. She was totally vulnerable, even to Bugsy's stick-insect physique.

"I think..." Bugsy mused, his gender-bending bowl cut shifting. Perhaps the most horrible thing was the light smile that sat comfortable on his face. "...that I shall take this slow."

His hand left her hips and steadily moved over her taunt stomach. Ash's bare hands would electrify Misty with pleasure when they lightly crossed over her skin, but Bugsy's version of the action may as well have painted her with sewerage. The venomous touch drove her to muttered, incomprehensible prayer.

A few key sounds pricked the ears on Bugsy's oversized head, and he seemed pleased. "Oh yes, pray!" He licked his smirking lips. "It's so much more fun when they pray..."

Vibrating in excitement, Bugsy's hand edged up towards Misty's shirt. As he pulled at its buttons, Misty seized up as though to fight, but her arms wouldn't work. Starmie was tied to the ground under layers of Caterpie string, trapped in an induced sleep. Yamna was vigilantly nesting above the starfish, ready to drug him back into unconsciousness if he should as much as stir.

Her pokémon disabled, limbs unbudging, pokébelt inaccessible, and her trusty mallet on the floor behind Bugsy's feet, Misty was left completely defenceless.

Victoriously tearing the buttons loose, the Bug Master unveiled his prisoner's chest. The bikini top where he would have expected a standard bra merited no more than a quirked eyebrow. Fingers shaking, Bugsy tenderly reached to touch his victim's breasts, like an opium-fiend drinking in a fresh hallucination after a long, twitching drought. Misty sucked in a feeble breath like a virgin.

The moment Bugsy's skin brushed the point of Misty's left half, a new spasm of unthinking terror shocked the redhead's body, and she did all that she was able – she spat in Bugsy's face.

"Gah!" The frail man cried, wiping the saliva from his eyes. As he did so, one of his Caterpies sprayed trails of gooey white liquid over Misty's face, sealing up her mouth. Clearing his vision, the Johto Bug trainer blinked. "Let's not ruin the mood, hey?"

Every desperate option cut off from her, Misty closed her eyes and tried to send her mind elsewhere. She failed, her mental powers staying firmly rooted to the sensation of the bastard's right hand seizing her side, while his left kneaded the places on her chest that only Ash had been before. Tears leaked through her lids.

_No, no, please don't let this happen..._ she wailed, though the sounds were muted by her silky gag. _Gary! Gary save me..._ she prayed, desperate to see pink – though that was also Bugsy's desire.

He was pulling at her shorts now, anxious to bring this atrocity to its climax, Bugsy's notion of 'taking it slow' anything but. She threw her head back madly, trying to snap her own neck and end it before the unspeakable was done to her.

The only crack she heard was a gunshot. The tormenting hands fell away, and Misty lifted her head and opened her eyes.

Bugsy was on his knees, holding his hands to his throat and hacking like he was trying to vomit up a kettle bell. His fingers were painted red.

Frozen in surprise, Bugsy's bug army didn't react at first, but Misty turned as much as her unresponsive body would allow, seeing from the corner of her eye a man at the office entrance, a small bulbous figure at his feet and a smoking carbine in his hand.

"That's something this Watcher doesn't need to see." Tracey stated hoarsely with a wild sneer. Azumarill took his crack as her signal to spit gallons of water.

The beam of water struck Misty first, pushing her free of the Caterpie's cross-hatch of string. Misty hit the floor, soaked through, and Azumarill shifted the path of the beam to wash away the bonds on Starmie. Yamna was forced into the air to escape the attack.

Gasping for air, Misty ripped the goo from over her mouth and drunk up all the steadying oxygen she could. She was ignored by the insect army, as Ledian and the Caterpies fell upon Tracey and his mousey Azumarill, while the freed and awoken Starmie buzzsawed into the grey Yamna.

Staring down at the white goo in her hand, Misty's eyes were wide. "I moved!" Azumarill's water attack must have washed off the powder. While the others cut down Bugsy's weak pokémon, she grabbed her steel hammer, not a thought in her brain.

Bugsy was waving his hand weakly, as though pulling himself up would draw him out of the blood drowning him, but there was no rescue from the bullet in his throat. This didn't occur to Misty as she stood over the androgynous man, hoisting her weapon.

Her commitment never to kill again was gone like a late-night fancy, and the heavy head of her weapon slammed into Bugsy's dying body, sending him broken to the floor. There was no reason to stop – Misty hoisted her weapon and dropped it again, shattering the small man's back.

The hammer rose and fell like a logger's axe hacking at a trunk, crushing Bugsy's thin knees, hips, and arms. Misty didn't cease, indeed her speed grew in pathological leaps, even long after Tracey and the pokémon had slaughtered the bugs, long after Bugsy had been squished into Hell, long after his body was nothing but red smears and powdered bones.

Tracey, watching his friend mechanically tenderise mashed gore, reached out.

"Misty..." he muttered lowly, unsure what to say or how to say it.

His word was all the catalyst needed, and Misty dropped her hammer as though her strength walked out. Turning, her face was behind a window of tears. She used one hand to pin her shirt closed defensively, and tackled Tracey to the ground, the other clenching the chubby man in a miserable hug.

Misty squeezed Tracey so tight that it hurt, but he said nothing. Sketchit hugged her gently like pottery and rocked reassuringly. Starmie bent his stiff limbs as much as he could in an awkward imitation of an embrace, planting his gem on his master's quaking back.

Wanting to whisper comforting words but not finding any, Tracey just rubbed Misty's wet back, eyes constantly darting for the door in fear a League soldier would stumble upon them. Azumarill stared up at the humans with uncomprehending baby eyes, then peeked at Bugsy's remains. It was becoming hard to ignore the stench.

"Hey..." Tracey started, noticing Misty's sobs slowing. He was about to say 'it'll be alright' but couldn't.

After stretch, his eyes flinching at every explosion or distant scream, Tracey pushed tenderly at his friend's shoulder, aware of not only her emotional wound but also their present physical danger.

"We need to go." He insisted softly.

Starmie backed off and Misty stood up. A blue glow washed her dripping form, and the starfish used his psychic powers to wring the moisture from her clothing. Now dry, she straightened from her hunch, and Tracey rose too.

"Ash." She said, more to order her thoughts than to communicate to Tracey. The storm of her trauma was still rioting in her skull, but she snatched the memories by the throat and forced them down, locking them in the same Abyss as the Sea of Blood. The prisoners howled painful thoughts up, but remained contained for now. She could work through her issues later – for now; Ash.

Re-buttoning her yellow shirt, Misty took several staggering steps towards the door, and Starmie stuck close by. Tracey stared in concern, but quickly waved for Azumarill to follow. Sparing a moment in the death-stinking office, the Watcher turned his world-seeing eyes to the paste corpse of the Bug Master.

Spitting on the pathetic man's remains, Tracey jogged after Misty.

-- --

Five fingers slapping onto the brass of his tiny bell, Morty composed a haunting progression. The notes took form in the air and stacked on top of each other into the fifth and last pillar, full of laughing faces that Morty didn't recognise – presumably people Agatha knew. The Hag had not made any attempt to leave her seat or her position, staring fearlessly at the young wizard as he dodged her magic and wove a spell of his own.

"Haha!" Morty laughed in exhaustion, collapsing to his knees in triumph. After producing a counter-spell to Agatha's giant doppelganger, he was able to evade capture, finishing off his tasks.

And now the last totem was complete. A low hum shivered the base of its purple length, in harmony with the other four towers around the distorted space. One of youth's terrors, one of grieving friends, another of bashful foes, the fourth of smiling acquaintances; these four totems were now at last joined with the fifth made from a pile of faces in Agatha's mind.

They were amassing power. Just a moment more...

Hunching shadows from Agatha's magic encircled him, but Morty didn't care, watching his pokémon fight as losing duel with the Hag's ensorcered Arbok.

"Gengar!" The black ghost moaned in irritation, his massive grin now a ragged frown. "Geeeng..."

Hissing viciously, Arbok lashed out with bewitched fangs, capable of poisoning otherworldly creatures. This snake was far from normal – when it had been two-headed, Gengar had dashed the hydra into pieces, but those remains reshaped into dozens of tiny Arboks to swarm him. These tiny serpents soon grew to full-sized ones, spewing a storm of acid and lashing at Gengar savagely.

Eventually, the Arboks ate each other, until one remained again, having swallowed up the rest. Gengar was so loaded with injury that he couldn't keep up with the purple snake's constantly shifting form and pattern. His opponent refused to play by rules.

Arbok threw himself through time and space, bashing his thick skull into Gengar from behind. The ghost tried to slap back with his long tongue, but the snake grew ethereal and passed through

"Chaarr-bok!"

Regaining corporeal form, Arbok wrapped tightly around Gengar and squeezed. Unused to physical pain, the ghost knew he wouldn't last, especially with all his wounds.

Struggling hopelessly, he frowned up at the spatially twisted hall. "Gen!" He cried, but Arbok exposed his dagger-fangs and bit down brutally, digging deep into the non-physical black flesh.

"Gengar..." Morty said sadly, as he never wanted his pokémon to experience this sort of pain. But it was necessary.

Undying eyes fixed steadily on the Johto wizard, the Mystic of Hell patiently reared her spells to pounce on Morty and thus finish man and pokémon together. The Tomb-Raider ignored her designs. Then, a light burned from the totems dotted around the room, a pentagram around Agatha's static position.

Smiling victoriously, Morty watched as beams of mystic light crossed the five totems and then folded in to slam with might into Agatha's floating seat. She vanished in the spell's power, and its magic jumped like lighting to Arbok, erasing his image too.

Breathing a colossal sigh of relief, releasing a breath Morty felt he'd been holding in forever, the Eruteak Gym-Leader dropped forward. Blue light stained everything as the blast died down.

"Did it..." he muttered, closing his eyes.

A high scoff cut through his victorious stooping, forcing the wizard to raise his eyes. Agatha was still in her seat, her old flesh without even a mark. She had arrogantly taken the incantation directly, and she proved worthy of her own self-esteem.

Chains made of rose thorns flicked up form the ground like launched rubber bands, ensnaring Morty tightly and drawing blood. Several strands strangled his finger, forcing his golden bell to the ground. It jittered pathetically.

A cavernous smile split Agatha's aged countenance, and she flew her chair closer to observe the death stroke more fully. Morty sneered as he watched the excitement of murder sharpen every line in her hanging face.

"You're disgusting." He choked out over the vines around his throat.

Still biting down on Gengar, Arbok's jaws were otherwise occupied, but still found a novel way to execute the rebel – his body stretched until the point of his tail neared the Tomb-Raider's shoulder. Then a new head blossomed from the tip like a flower in quick bloom. Flexing his threatening fan, the cobra readied to bite on his second simultaneous victim.

"We shouldn't exist." Morty forced himself to say, wanting his last words to count. "We're abominations."

Agatha was more than happy to live with that label, and her frail jaw fell open to let loose one of her skin-shrivelling laughs, the bottomless pit of her mouth yearning to swallow down more atrocity. Arbok's tail-head sprung forward and clamped down on Morty's shoulder.

"GAAAAH!"

Lazy eyes blown wide, the ghost hunter cried out in pain, feeling the burning toxins injected into his lymphatic system – Venom that could poison the supposedly immune Gengar was more than enough to kill a human. Hurting tears traced from his eyes, and when it was certain he was beyond salvation, Arbok released the Johto native. The thorned chains also fell away, drying up and evaporating, leaving Morty to collapse forward with a purple colour to his cheeks.

"Garr..." his pokémon moaned, dropped from the snake's jaws. The ghost's peppiness was gone, and he struggled to even raise his arms.

There was but a child's strength left in Morty's arms, and as he held himself off the bending floor, he retched pathetically. He was growing pale and discoloured – he had precious seconds left.

He began to laugh through the illness and pain.

A perverse, toothless grin was on Agatha's soft face, and her own cackling danced with Morty's. It was such a pleasure to see her victims go mad with despair! Then she felt it.

There was queasiness in her stomach, and in confusion she looked with milky eyes to her pokémon. Arbok, who had been sizing up Gengar for consumption, wavered slightly. The ghost he was towering over stared weakly somewhere in the distance and dropped his hand. Deceased, the black Gengar faded away back to his own dimension, to face whatever burial they enacted there.

Exactly in harmony with when the ghost gave up the spirit, Arbok fell as though shot through the heart. Brows hefting up heavy old flesh, Agatha stared blankly at her invincible serpent that had died without warning.

Morty's laughter grew in volume. A smell – her old nose could barely detect it – the stench of a curse.

"I lose, therefore I win." Morty babbled, staring at the ground. The Witch could feel the blood in her veins going stale. As the youthful sensation of panic shook at her weak body, her eyes search the young man for answers.

Pulling the headband from his long blonde hair, the Eruteak Gym-Leader forced the last of his strength into looking up at the ex-Elite. She was going the same colour as him. "Don't suppose you've heard of a spell called 'Destiny Bond', have you?"

Agatha's desperate, feeble attempts to push herself up from her wooden chair were a sweet sight to Morty, who, now approaching final rest, let himself fall down. A smile was on his face, knowing that in removing two monsters from the world, he at least ended on a good note, a resounding gong of the bell. He closed his eyes and took company with him to the afterlife.

-- --

Back-flipping artfully down the hall, May was finally at a distance from the scene of Karen's carnage that the smell was tolerably light. Resetting her stance, she watched as her tall Blaizeken grabbed Houndoom by the torso and dragged the wolf along the wall, tearing a long trench. The black dog melted away in black fumes, escaping the firebird's talons and reforming behind, biting at Blaizeken's trailing hair. The wolf tugged the tall pokémon to the ground, sneering violently.

May would have loved to have helped, but had to remain on guard against her own opponent. Holding her razor sharp discus in the air, she kept her eyes unhooded, staring intently at every shadow in the room.

"Come on, you eldritch bitch..." May muttered, her hand shaking. Blaizeken had lit his hair on fire to force back Houndoom, but both pokémon were fire-types – it would be a vicious fight.

The lights cut off suddenly.

"Such language!" Stroked a whisper over May's ear.

Spinning sharply, the Elite Second lashed out to slit Karen's pale windpipe. The blade of her weapon cut sleekly through, but there was no blood, only darkness.

"I love it when you talk dirty!" The monster went on, uncaring of the gap in her throat. It sealed up quickly.

May pranced backwards out of range of the Elite First's elongated nails. A frustrated frown on her face, the beauty couldn't help but see how desperate her situation was. _She is Elite First for a reason._ The brunette noted, sucking in her cheek. _This is just great. How do you beat someone you can't hurt?_

Just trying to hold back her fear was hard. She had a natural tendency to doubt herself in training, but had reinforced herself up until now with the thought that she hadn't been going into battle alone – Having studied Max's techniques and theory so closely, it was almost like he was right there with her. But Max had never taught her anything about fighting demons – this was something May had to overcome by herself. She took a deep breath.

Peering at Karen, trying to discern a weakness, May couldn't help but be stunned anew by the impossible sight. Prolonged exposure during her years in Ketchum's court had dulled the knife-edge of Gym-Slayer's terrifying appearance, but May couldn't help but shiver.

"Look at you..." May mouthed inaudibly. "All curves and pouty lips, and still you're rancid as the grave." Indeed, what would have been a body to rival May's own (well, perhaps 80 per cent as good. Maybe.) was infected by some evil force that burned the eyes. A total corruption of beauty, order, form, poetry – of everything May was.

The supernaturally ugly creature flicked out her lank dead hair coquettishly and cocked a well-shaped hip. _What the hell?_ May thought. _Unmentionable never does girly things like that unless she's..._ May's heart stopped – was Night-Whisper _mocking_ her?

"Oh, you've done it now, slag." May growled, a sore spot poked.

Banking desperately that Karen operated on a battery or something that could be worn down, Heart-Taker threw herself forward in one of her flashiest techniques. Bouncing into a handstand, she spun with her legs spread-eagled; a spinning kick like a glimmering whirlpool, twisting into a crouch the way the tide is pulled in, and then launched up as the waves crashing on a cliff in a brutal uppercut.

Her execution impressed even May herself – she could feel the living poetry in each movement, the glorious mix of lethality and loveliness. Karen shirked back in fear.

_Buh?_ May thought, blinking at the Gym-Slayer's undignified retreat with a twisted look of terror on her normally dead face. It was a look generally reserved for Karen's prey.

Although none of the attack had actually made contact, courage was stoked in May's heart. Perhaps Karen wasn't as invincible as she appeared... Rose slung out her circlet to follow up.

Karen disintegrated just as the blade was about to cleave her sternum. May figured that the Elite First would reappear directly behind again, and jumped up in a perfect turning kick, dragging her foot through the black pond in the air. It wasn't effective – Unmentionable reformed with the typical murderous smile back on her face.

"Hn." May hummed, agitated, and cart-wheeled backwards, lifting a hand to receive her discus as it returned from its set of ricochets. "Now at least I know that this puzzle isn't a trick question..."

Solving problems was in her blood (she hoped) – May was determined to answer this one. Smoothing down her frizzed bangs, the attractive woman charged again in order to try a new solution.

Karen presented her hellish claws, chuckling. "Oh, you naughty girl..." She said in her typical style, preparing to receive the attack.

Something black flew through the air between the two women. Cancelling her attack, May danced out of the way while Karen was swallowed by shadows. It was Houndoom – thrown by Blaizeken's considerable strength. Even mid-air, the hate-mad dog bent and spewed out fire.

As gymnastic as his mistress, Blaizeken flipped around the flame-stream, swiping out burning arches of his own in retaliation.

"Hey!" May cried, backing up against the wall, before crossing her arms and pouting. "So much for 'co-ordinating'."

Her fight wasn't interrupted for long, as Karen was suddenly upon her in a black cloud, licking her dark lips. Sinister claws were already tearing the air, and May, her pretty eyes bulging, had no time to think.

Bending at the back, she avoided the first strike by falling parallel to the ground. Karen's lank white hair shot forward like a blanket of arrows and feeling the fact more that perceiving it, May wove back and clear again. A second run of the Karen's bestial talons aimed to reveal the beauty's guts.

Mind still paved over by sheer movement and art, May swung her legs high in the air and rolled over Unmentionable's swiping arm artfully. Without missing a beat, May touched the ground and automatically ran _up_ the wall, revolving into a full summersault. As Karen pushed forward to pursue, May arched down onto the hell-woman's shoulder and bounced off it into another flip.

Brain still blank with zen-like repose in action, May tracked a course of flips and twists down the hall, adjusting almost unconsciously to dodge around stray fireballs, punctuating the athletic sentence with a high, definitive jump that hammered down like a full stop. It was a perfect ten-point landing; any Olympic judge would have applauded.

Breathing hard in exertion and exhilaration, May was stunned, holding her finishing pose and staring forward. The current fight to the death almost didn't matter – that sequence had been a poem written in angel tongue dropped from heaven.

_That was... beautiful._ May thought to her self, replaying her own moves in her head. Talented as she was, Rose couldn't quite believe she had executed them. Form, ability, and aesthetics – everything was uncriticisable.

Slowing disrobing of the ecstatic joy, she swivelled on her spot to look back at Karen. May was surprised a second time.

Unmentionable was clutching at her shoulder as though the contact from May's foot had burned. Open-mouthed terror creased Karen's hellish face, her pale skin tone now more like one of fear than death. She didn't even unravel into cords of night-strands – Karen was totally paralysed.

Fluttering eyes, May stared in disbelief. Karen, who murdered her own Gym, who delighted in every evil thing, whose very _humanity_ was in question, was clenched with honest-to-goodness fear? The horror-folded skin on her sinister face that would normally make an attractive woman uglier had the opposite effect – it seemed to drag away the nightmarish sheathe that made Karen such an eye-sore and bring her slightly closer to something like humanity.

"This is the second time she's done this..." May said to herself, tapping at her discus. She had the same blood as Max – surely she could be smart if she just tried! "But neither time did I actually _hit_ her..."

A lateral thought swung into her brain, a cheeky smile accompanying it to her face. May brushed a brown bang thoughtfully.

"I think I get it!" She shouted to the monster, whose fear was birthing spitting anger – closer to Karen's usual stock, but still comfortingly out of character. May twisted towards Blaizeken, flicking her hips as though there were a boy present out of sheer joy. "Blaizeken!"

The tall bird pokémon looked up, then quickly resumed fighting the black Houndoom. Grabbing the wolf by the scruff of the neck, he pounded a heavy fist into the vicious pokemon's gut before slamming a burning punch into his jaw. As Houndoom went flying, Blaizeken turned to his mistress, now free to receive orders.

"I need some music!" She cried, cupping a hand to project her voice. Blaizeken's serious eyes stared over his beak dumbly. May ignored the sceptical look and called out again. "Oh, and some pyrotechnics!"

Hesitation wobbled the long-limbed firebird as his eyes slid to Houndoom, who was emerging from a dark cloud just nearby, a bottomlessly violent look in his red eyes and squeezing teeth. A stage-show in the middle of battle? In the end, orders were orders, and he trusted May completely.

Sweeping a wild hand, the bird threw out a sheet of long-burning flames first, hoping it would stay Houndoom a moment. An orange lense was slipped over the hall, adding more psychological intensity to the fire's heat. The mood set, Blaizeken bent down to the ground and struck the floor boards. Using the wood as an improvised drum, the pokémon began beating out a deep, rhythm-heavy beat. In the light, it evoked a native's dance around the campfire.

Eyes on Karen, May smirked, bobbing a knee as she took on the rhythm. She could feel the music flood her legs, the beat tugging her hips. Karen couldn't seem to move, the fire-coated hall making her seem more like hell spawn than before. The monster actually flinched as May pulled up her hair and threw herself into the dance.

_Gotcha now,_ May figured, twisting and coiling in a fashion suitable to the savage music. _This was never a battle – this was a contest._ That was her last thought as, smiling, she lost herself in the dance.

Night-Whisper gaped impotently at the beauty before her, then across at the firebird drumming enthusiastically in a shrubbery of fire. Houndoom was snarling but unable to pounce, his paws nailed to the floor. Rage twitching her face, Karen glared back at May, who was ignoring her.

"Stop it..." the shadow-woman hissed inaudibly, watching as the trees of flame started to dance with May, flicking and jerking like a ring of Indians. Louder, she repeated the order. "Stop it!"

Pointing a nail, the Gym-Slayer launched a long black spear to run May through. She was so caught up in her movement that she was unaware of the incoming death.

At the last second, the spike jerked away harmlessly, as though Karen was merely trying to scare her into complying. As though she was unable to actually do anything about the Elite Second's performance.

May was elsewhere. She was around a campfire, a symphony of braves banging a gut-fishing beat on skin-drums, in a world where the marriage consummation was the marriage vow. Thrusting out in sudden, emphatic movement, as though really in the throes of passion, the brunette's dance was thick with dense primal sexuality – Simple, pure, loyal. Her longing eyes were fixed on only one imaginary man in the audience (she lied to herself that it wasn't Ash).

Animating every brush of the flesh, each shy coil, each feverish reach was an uncomplicated love that only wanted to give the dearest gift, total intimacy. Blaizeken's ring of fainting flames was the furnace walls – the true heat was within, building in the intensity of the dance, temperature rising as Blaizeken's drumming grew faster, heavier and May fell deeper into the magic.

"Sssstop-!" Karen forced out, twitching violently. She fell to her knees as she gazed into the pumping bare heat of true beauty as a normal person might gaze into the abyss. Night-whisper was a creature of pure hideousness – to look upon such a hypnotising marvel was poison to her.

Houndoom looked like pup beaten by its master – terrified but unable to leave. As the wolf shivered and whined, his master tried to protest again, but her ability to speak was garbled by the convulsions seizing her body

"Garbulfft!" She hacked out, like pronouncing an unholy name.

Heart-taker's kiln had glazed her with sensuality painted on in orange light, a coat for the elegance of May's movement, thumping and jabbing with barbarian passion. Gasping and huffing as she rode the rhythm, beads of sweat grew on her skin, red stars overlaid on a sunset sky. Blaizeken had entered into the same realm of unaware motion, tied to his master by the music, feeling her move as his eyes closed. His own perspiration dribble through his feathers.

"KYAAA!" Karen screamed with bestial pitch, falling piteously from the human standard. In madness, she plunged her black nails into her own eyes, but in the blindness and blood she could still see May. She dug deeper, but the Elite Second didn't notice.

Houndoom pressed his head to the floor and dipped his claws into the top of his skull, tearing.

With an upward flick, using the curve of her body and the flight of her bangs, May threw the audience's attention high into the untarnished night sky (for they were now transported to the virgin forests) and highlighting the caressing enchantment of every celestial body. The shadows endlessly reprinted on her skin by the flaming tribe were tattoos, sharp and untamed, but also a leash willingly handed to the beloved. May was a fairy gone tribal, the perfect meshing of the wonders of the carnal and the heavenly – the lost glories of humanity.

Like her dark pokémon parting his own forehead with rabid savagery, Karen's gibbering insanity was not content to merely gouge out her eyes but to rip at her own throat and unpack all the organs organised within her ribcages. Gargling and pulling out red and blue innards, Unmentionable shredded her own body in the way only a monster could.

With one final fling, May and Blaizeken knew at the same exact moment that the dance was over, minds melded through the art. The moment the Hoenn Co-ordinator's foot touched the ground, the firebird ceased drumming with flourish, throwing a broad hand and killing the flames.

"Whoa." May uttered, trying to press twice as much air as her lungs could hold inside. Bending over, hands on knees, she stared at the floor, having impressed herself for the third time today. "Third's the charm."

Slowing her applauding heart, she pulled off her bandanna and wiped it down her wet face. Straightening, May pulled the red fabric from before her eyes and stared at her opponents.

After a moment Blaizeken came to her side, which snapped her back into motion.

"Ew." She said, drying her slick arms and damp gloves. Karen was nothing more than a pile of putrid gore, and as much could be said of her bone-clad mutt Houndoom. May was surprised that the shadow-things even had guts.

"Good work on the music and light show." She complimented aside to her pokémon, who shrugged humbly. May couldn't take her eyes from the act of self-mutilation in front of her. She half-expected the remains to drift away in a wisp of darkness, but they stayed very real, which was a bit creepy.

Folding her bandana and wringing it, she turned to walk away, but her head wouldn't move. Karen was terrifying in life – in death she was more so.

"Burn it." Decided May finally, now able to look away. Blaizeken torched the refuse obediently, and the pair advanced through the palace.

-- --

Sucking a long draught through his cigarette, frying the last of the shaft, Snap savoured the feeling of the smoke murdering his lungs and billowing out through his nostrils. He crushed the remains.

He'd found a map, half-buried in rubble. Tapping his present location with the barrel of his gun, Todd trailed a path through the halls until he tapped again at another place of interest.

"A stadium." He said, shaking his head at the sheer gaudiness of it all. "Sometimes you're just too predictable, whatsyaname, _Champion_."

He refused to dignify Ash Ketchem with remembering his name – that piece of crap couldn't even remember Snap's. He'd been waiting so long for this chance to reduce Ketchem and his work and everything he held dear and his dreams to _nothing_.

Preparing another cigarette, checking his gun and moving on, the sniper smiled. _Meaninglessness awaits_.

-- --

Her hands tightly held together in front of her chest, Delia stared worryingly up at the Plateau. Gunfire and screaming could faintly be heard, the sound tumbling down to the foot of the landform. She could see flashes of light from explosions and a furious swarm of flying pokémon and their pilots dog-fighting around the palace peaks like flies around a corpse. Mr Mime stared worriedly up at his mistress as she moaned.

Nurse Joy had rejoined the other nuns and medical staff to organise a party to advance through Victory Road to try and attend to the wounded on the flat of Indigo, leaving Mrs Ketchem to stand uselessly aside, eyes pinned to the battle in the sky.

_They're up there, all those kids..._ went through her head. _ Children I fed and housed and watched grow up. And Ash..._

A noise by her side drew her attention. A three-headed Dugtrio had popped from the grass nearby. Odd, they weren't native to this area. Her head turned, she noticed that he was not alone, there were other pokémon watching with her. A lot more.

Crowds of eclectic colour, shape and size had formed – pokémon from all over Kanto (all over the world actually – Delia recognised a Giraffig and several other foreign creatures). They were forming a circle around the plateau, all eyes firmly forward. There weren't any trainers – they were wild pokémon.

Delia's fingers dabbed her lips as she marvelled. "Oh my..."

She had seen something like this before – years ago, from a helicopter with Professor Oak (God rest his soul). Ash had been young, fulfilling some Islander prophecy and sending the master of the dark depths, Lugia, back into the sea.

_Can pokémon sense when things like that are happening?_ The mother wondered, looking at all the stern, focussed faces. Mr Mime was backing into her knees protectively. _Is something important happening now?_

A chilling thought shivered her, and she looked back up to the elevated battlefield. Did that mean Ash was...?

Licking at her lips, she came to a sudden, quivering decision. Closing her eyes, she declared, "I want to see my son."

One hand tightening involuntarily around his broom, Mr Mime forced down his violent reaction. Patting Delia's dress comfortingly, he materialised a purple plate before her shins.

She stepped up onto the barrier, her stout clown pokémon following her. None of the congregation of wild pokémon turned to notice. He used his psychic powers to form another, and the pair climbed a staircase of psychic shields that Mr Mime built even as they climbed, ascending to where Delia' son was fighting for his life.

-- --

Far enough away from the Plateau and high enough in the air as to be invisible, a towering purple pokémon hovered, his large feline eyes locked on the distant half-mount. Flaming flowers bloomed as the bombs of war blossomed over the stony surface.

Mewtwo was mentally manipulating his puppet Giovanni, who was negotiating a dangerously crucial deal with the leaders of both Team Magma and Team Aqua in a tense round-table affair far south on Cinnabar Island – but he only did so distractedly. His psychic eyes were locked deep in the Indigo palace, where anyone of true insight could see an honestly momentous occurrence happening. Ash Ketchem, the molecule on the very point of the spear of destiny, was duelling with the man who spurned fate itself, Gary Oak.

_Champion and Challenger, _He mused grimly, off-handedly having Giovanni make calming motions at the two other crime lords as they shouted at him. The hybrid's focus mostly invested in the Indigo fight.

_This is rare for any man,_ Mewtwo noted, his brow tightening as the two exchanged blows. _Do either of you realise that the universe itself is watching this bout of fisticuffs?_

-- --

Twilight inked the sky a heavy indigo, causing the fires and warlights on the Plateau to stand out even more clearly. Stars were poking holes to stare down dumbly at the violence below while the Sun was turning its back and abandoning them all. On a tall grassy hill, a picnic was prepared.

Equipped with a perfect view of the League's last stand, a plaid blanket had been laid down with a wicker basket and plenty of drink. Nestled beneath a screwed tree, the private festivities rolled on to the music of the war.

"Puuurrr..." moaned Persian, who was curled comfortably on the blanket, high on catnip. He snickered endlessly at the disasters falling on the twerps in the distance while his partner made a fuss. Swinging a bottle of champagne wildly, Jesse was standing broadly and hurling abuse.

"HA!" She screamed at uncomfortable volume, joy and hate brewed in the grog. "Who's blasting off now, huh?" Spittle rocketed off her red lipstick as she gestured drunkenly, swinging her long hair like a whip. "Not so fun, is it?"

Tripping over Persian, James staggered unsteadily, his own bottle of champagne in hand. Looking over at the distance explosions, he giggled.

_Look at those twerps now!_ He thought. _Confused, divided and murdering themselves! Delicious!_

Swigging his drink, the fop rubbed his blue hair gaily. Money was something Team Rocket had in abundance, and as soon as the opportunity arose to celebrate (that is, gloat) over their mortal twerp-enemies, they had rushed out to buy the biggest, most expensive wines they could find with unpronounceable names – even though they wouldn't be able tell it from tap water.

Inebriated, James stumbled forward into Jesse's back, and as he was light and she was strong, she barely budged. The once-again rich kid was hooked over the female trio-member.

"Hhhey Jesse..." He slurred, smothering his partner with breathe sticky with alcohol. His hands fumbled to move down her chest. "How about a victory kiss...?"

Equally as sloshed as her colleague, Jesse made a hissing, disgusted sound and viciously elbowed her dearest friend in the solar plexus. Persian, baked out of his mind, thought this was hilarious.

"Don't touch me!" She shrieked. Men had only ever treated her badly or used her for what she could 'offer'. Well, screw 'em! She didn't need them.

Turning from where James was writhing on the blanket back to the twerps' implosion, she continued to cry out cruelly. "How do _you_ like it?" She roared shrilling, pouring champagne down her throat any wiping her mouth on her long glove brutishly.

"Not all roses and ice cream now, is it? Not going so perfect _now_, hey?" She sneered and kicked back at James with her high heels just to let off the steam. She seemed to have struck him in the groin, which made her doubly satisfied.

Jesse continued to blare at the far off battlefield that couldn't hear her. "What's it feel like to be losers, huh?" She asked, giving the finger to the twerps and their war.

-

-

**Author's Notes:**

I've decided the theme song for Grasping the Moon is _Handlebars_ by Flobots. That and _Achilles Last Stand_ by Led Zeppelin.

Okay, I've decided to split it up again, and considering this beast is like a trillion words long, I'm sure you can see why. Next chapter is definitely last (featuring some serious Ash-on-Gary action!), then the epilogue. Then, if you're lucky, the sequel. If you're _very_ lucky.

Also, more mistakes; apparently it's 'Delia' not 'Deliah.' And Viridian Forest is between Viridian and Pewter, not Pallet and Viridian. Great.

Not too happy with Will's end, but I tried.

So at last there is attempted rape scene – I wonder if I went overboard. I think some fics take rape way too lightly, throwing it around casually. I limited myself to one occurrence to maintain the horror, because rape is just plain bloody evil. Naturally, an actual war would be a different affair, but this is fantasy.

I hope no one was offended by the use of 'Indian' – I decided on that over 'Native-American' to invoke the old 'Cowboy and Indians'-style images, like in Peter Pan's Neverland thing.

Please Read and Review!

**Redheadthegirl:** I agree with you on Karen – I realised that the only people she'd killed that chapter were nameless League peons, and I wanted her to murder someone emotionally valuable gruesomely, but, well, I needed all those characters. Maybe I should have knocked off Deliah, or at least Nurse Joy.

As for May… well, she's _also_ an old friend and pretty. I dropped hints as to her abilities way back in chapter 1 – but that was, like, years ago. And regarding Gary's distraction, we all love irony.

**TJay-Dragg Latios-of-da-Cookie: **The context-deprived woes of written communication over the internet has left me unable to figure out who the 'chap' you're referring to is or even if there is implied sarcasm. So I'm going to assume that you mean Gary and Brock letting May off the hook – well, being hot goes a long way, I guess.

**Atrioc:** Thanks for you continued and consistent support! I can't say that I'll be sad when it's over – I'll be happy to finish something that I begun. I'm weighing up doing a sequel – in fact I've already got a plot roughed out – but I don't want to spend another couple of years writing it when there are so many other things I have to focus on. I will deliberate.


	33. Lunar Eclipse 1

**Disclaimer**: Nintendo and 4Kids – my mortal enemies, my eternal foes. Only they possess ownership of Pokémon... only they hold the keys to the future's gate. Hail, Imperator – Hail and goodbye.

**Grasping the Moon**

Chapter 33 – Lunar Eclipse

Part 1

When master swordsmen duel, they tend to freeze, observing each other minutely across the killing floor. Each tight with experience and lethal skill, and totally aware of the similar store of violent knowledge in the other, they search their opponent for even the tiniest movement, the smallest lapse in concentration, so that they can spring forward in an instant of blinding action. The fight is ended in a single movement, perfect in execution, taking advantage of the slightest appearance of weakness.

Conscious of this efficient mix of tense stillness and lightning death, the inexperienced martial artist might look upon the death-duel of Ash Ketchum and Gary Oak and sneer.

"Amateurish!" They may accuse, watching the two destiny-bound men blitz around each other with ringing blades and coughing guns. "They are strong and fast, but they are all force and no subtlety – their technique is full of holes, they have no true skill."

His master would then be right to rebuke the impudent youth. Master's eyes, refined with both instinct and wisdom, would see something else entirely to a wild brawl. There was a song in this clamour that only truly talented ears could discern without direction – every swing of the blade was measured precisely, each degree in its tilt resplendent with counters and anti-counters in a colossal mind war. Strategy piled on top of skill on top of experience on top of ferociousness on top of strength – they were towers of war, at a level far beyond masters.

_I could cry!_ Gary declared inwardly, knowing Ash was the same way. The movement of his weapons, the ducking around Ash's, even the thoughts of strategy were all mechanical, subconscious. He and Ash, their souls were hovering above the battle, dancing and kissing as their bodies hacked and blasted.

Eevee and Pikachu's fight had quickly accelerated up in intensity into some new form of pokémon battle. The dog and the rat both were so strong, pulsating with so much power that the energy buoyed them mid air. Held in the tall space above the seating, they were no longer attacking each other directly, but growling and flexing their brute might.

A bubble of sheer energy was growing out of Eevee's body, the size of a hot air balloon, pressing out towards Pikachu, who was similarly buffered with a hissing electrical storm of roughly equivalent size. Bearing teeth, the two pokémon focussed entirely on their shoving match at titanic scale.

Cartwheeling without hands, Ash avoided having his guts stabbed through. Swinging down, he kicked roughly at Gary's knees, narrowly missing the purple pants as his dear opponent jumped over his legs. Ash grinned and Gary smiled back, raising his long sword.

"Hey Gary," Ash said conversationally, shoving the barrel of his M-16 into his rival's face in the manner one might offer a cup of tea. "Remember when we first met?"

"You mean when we were kids?" Gary responded, advancing past the gun barrel swiftly, barely hearing the scream of bullets pass behind his head. He brought down his European-style blade on the outside of Ash's indefensible flank. "At Gramp's place?"

Twisting around out of the sword's bite, the Champion spun around his precious Gary and slashed his black katana at his kidney. "Yeah, Mum took me over for dinner."

Quick arms, Gary jerked his AK-47 back to parry the sword. "And we had to share a seat?" Leading with his sword, Gary stabbed again at Ash's beautiful face, but it was a feint. He held his rifle up by his head and blasted away at the Chosen one while he avoided the blade.

Ash was wise to the trap, and took advantage of his shorter height to speed under the path of the bullets. He hooked his gun arm around Gary's right shoulder. "Remember how we fought over it?" Ketchum went on pleasantly, planting a foot in front of Gary and levering him by the shoulder, tripped the taller man. "How I – hurph! – had you on the floor crying?"

Falling to the ground with a laugh, Gary seized Ash's cape and used the momentum of his collapse to sling the Great Kanto Trainer over head.

"I seem to remember it differently, hey?" The Challenger reported, chuckling, watching Ash roll. "I think it was you with his butt on the carpet."

Standing again, the two warriors smiled broadly at each other. This was perfect, this was peace – for years they had fantasised endlessly about the day they would be able to finish their long feud. And now it was here, now it was happening and it was _so damn good._

Crashing into the grandstands like a missile, Eevee was struck from the air by a thunderous surge from Pikachu. The yellow rodent fell, lightning infesting his static-straightened fur.

"PikaCHU!" He roared, wiping the accumulated energy off his body like a rain of sweat, drilling a nation's worth of electricity into the Eevee's crater. The sheer force of his attack pressed the pokémon back into the air.

A shimmering bubble popped from the tower of light, bouncing from a plastic seat. It was Eevee, shielded by a reflect field, who crashed into Pikachu and threw the pair gnawing and scratching into the ground below.

Their masters, Ash and Gary, resumed their own engagement, katana against long sword, M-16 against AK-47. The ins and outs of the fight were mindless, like the use of knives and forks during a dinner date. The meal only occupied a fraction of their total attention – the true focus was on each other. So, shooting and cutting, they continued their happy reunion.

Reminiscing over the old times, Ash dashed Gary's weapons to either side, leaving him open. Springing up impressively, he drove a knee up towards the taller man's chin.

Bending backwards in a manner that would win him any limbo competition, Oak avoided a shattered jaw and let Ash pass over him. As they both regained their proper footing, the Champion arched around with his sword, looking to open Gary's stomach. The taller man lashed up with a foot, kicking the katana from its path, only to find an M-16 shoved into his ribs.

His smile exploded. _Oh shi-_

Instead of maddening pain and a ribbon of flying intestines, Gary's next experience was the sound of a click. They were both surprised.

Ash merely said, "Oh." Meanwhile, Gary took advantage, puncturing his own rifle forward.

Tossing his sword high into the air, Ash grabbed the neck of Gary's soviet weapon and pulled it past him. Oak's grip was strong, and he stumbled forward with the weapon, and as he did so, Ash ejected his spent magazine and snatched his descending sword in record time.

Finishing his turn, the Challenger pointed his rifle again and pulled the trigger. Ash threw himself forward in a roll, avoiding the path of high-calibre rounds tracing him.

"Wow, that was impressive!" The Great Kanto Trainer complimented, having withdrawn a fresh clip of bullets. He clipped it into place as he sprinted forward and threw his body weight into his foe. "I can't believe you managed to count my shots like that!"

Pulling free of the tangle, the auburn-haired man skidded back and replaced his own ammunition. "Scared, hey?" he said, not about to admit to anyone, least of all himself, that he had survived from sheer luck.

Cocking his gun with his teeth, Ash smiled back at his other half. The sense of intimacy was growing more burning, like the distinction between the two men was disappearing. He was having too much fun, he wanted to share more with him; empty all of his experiences into the other, receiving Gary's back in kind. Charging again, he opened his mouth to speak as Gary received the attack expertly.

"Hey, have you ever noticed in the morning, when Misty's barely awake?" He started, leaping up in a spinning kick. "And she's still not dressed, but she cuddles up to you and..."

Eyes wide, Gary jumped back, escaping Ash's assault. He waved his weapons, denying the implication. "Woah! Hey hey hey! I never slept with her!"

Blinking, Ash was surprised. "Oh." He emitted, strangely disappointed that there was an experience, deep and personal, that he was unable to share with Gary – something only for him and Misty. But, thinking again, it was a stupid impulse. "Well, that's good, I guess..."

The flow of the fight had been interrupted, and the two men stared at each other, blushing at the extent to which they had opened up. It would be an easy thing to simply start the sword swings again, but... it had been so long since they had been together, and given that they each dominated the other's heart and mind so strongly, the least they could do was talk a little.

Feeling a little foolish suddenly, their rifles and swords hanging limply at their sides, the pair of them came to an unspoken agreement to chat a second before killing each other.

"Vee!" Eevee shouted from the other side of the arena, catching their attention. He was spitting shadow balls wildly as Pikachu danced around them with such speed that he seemed to disappear. Advancing into range, Ash's pokémon sparked and threw a bright beam of energy down on the dog, but Eevee was already gone. As the stadium floor exploded like a bomb, Gary's pup was driving a paw coated with freezing energy down on Pikachu's spine.

Blasting off the frost and throwing his opponent flying in a wave of thunder, Pikachu counter-attacked, galloping after the bushy-tailed dog. Eevee was far from defenceless, though, and slapped the wall with his tail, springing back towards the lightning rat and slamming him with the weight of his body.

"Eee! Eeveeeee vee!" The dog mocked as drove his forehead into Pikachu's side. The rat's ribs bent dangerously, but he ignored the pain, pushing to his feet. His long thunderbolt tail stiffened with a strange energy, becoming like iron, and he sliced the sword-like appendage at the pup. Blood was draw just under Eevee's ear.

"Pika pika." Pikachu replied wittily.

Watching their two primary pokémon batter each other brainless brought Ash and Gary back to the many battles they'd had over their childhood, particularly the dramatic championship finals. They were only sixteen, there was so much more to see, but it felt good back then. Just like now – the infusing joy of having a place, slotting right into where they were meant to be, partnered up with someone who understood you completely.

_Why did I ever give this up?_ Gary wondered, thinking back a long time to when he had been inspired by his grandfather to become a researcher instead of a trainer. He'd had a good go of it and had some impressive success, but...

_I'm only happy when I'm at war, _the Pallet trainer realised. He _needed_ this, like a drug – a goal, a mighty warrior to overcome. But not just anyone, someone he knew, someone with significance – only then could he walk the path of death into heaven.

Letting his head roll back on his neck, he raised his hilt to his face and covered his eyes. It was safe – there was no way that Ash would attack him unprepared.

"Hey Ash," he opened, and the Champion took his eyes from Pikachu forcing Eevee back with slashes from his iron tail. Peeking, Gary could see Ketchum's brown eyes, the same that must hold Misty in such a thrall. "I'm sorry I got scared and ran away."

Ash made a questioning noise, and Gary explained.

"Back when I decided to become a scientist instead of your murderer."

The expression on Ash's face clearly said he had never held the slightest ill will towards Gary over the matter, and Oak knew that the apology didn't need to be accepted. He hid his eyes again.

"Gary, there's something you should know." The Chosen One said, in a bold but gentle tone. Gary looked back. "It's about Professor Oak."

Gary hadn't realised that the use of that name by the one who had built this Kanto Empire would sting so much. Suddenly his saintly feel of glory was stabbed with the memory of his grandfather plugged uselessly to an insane machine in that pit of the Devil they called 'Pallet Town'. At the time he was so mournful he hadn't cared how it had come to that, but now he wondered what Ash's hand in it was.

_Strange, I hadn't been thinking about it at all..._ Gary noted. _And Ash's League is dying around him, but still we're both so happy battling in here._ He looked by his sword up into the great ceiling of the Indigo Stadium, like a bubble cutting them off from everything, their woes and grief. When it was just the two of them, the world seemed to disappear.

Raising his head and dropping his sword arm, the Challenger gave Ketchum his full attention. Ash had his eyes on the pokémon battle, observing Eevee ward off Pikachu with a well-placed hyper beam.

"I knew your grandfather when he was a kid." He explained, eyes turning away, though still feeling the look the tall man gave him. "I travelled through time, you see."

'_Travelled through time'?_ Gary repeated in his head. Absurd as that sounded, he had no reason to doubt Ash, given the strange things both of them had seen and done. Still, it was his first hint that Ash was something unto his own, in his own league.

"Sam and I were friends. That's why he was so focussed on me – not because he would have rathered I was his grandson or anything." Ash turned to look at Gary straight, and in that face Gary saw exactly why Misty had fallen in love with him. "He loved you."

Hiding his face, Gary worked hard to make sure his watering eyes didn't overflow. Regaining some control, he considered interrogating Ash over the state that Professor Oak had ended his life in – but there was no need, there was no way that Ash had anything to do with it. No way.

Wordlessly riding the mood in that fashion that lovers do, both the fighters straightened their weapons in accord. The explosions and cries from their pokémon were coming closer. Stepping tenderly forward, they resumed the violence.

"Pika pika!" One pokémon moaned, they weren't sure which. The two duels were slowly drawing together, risking the lives of the pokémon's masters from a stray attack.

In the movement was repose, and there was no sense of endangerment as the shadow balls streaked near the humans, pasting purple light across their swords. It was like meditation, like an intense conversation, except the only words were bullets.

Buffered out around the merging duels was the sealing magnitude of the Indigo Stadium, where these same men and pokémon warred so long ago. Though humbled against the size of the expanse, the growing battle-heat and mind-numbing calm intensified, filling the great chamber and drawing it in with motherly intimacy. The hall was closing into a womb, fertile and pregnant, readying itself to give birth to, to... _something_.

'Veee...' someone said – but without words

'War...' someone responded – but without lips

'Love...' someone echoed – but without saying it.

All was one – the combatants were indistinguishable to each other, not aware from one moment to another whether they were cutting man or pokémon, or even ally or enemy. Pikachu spun through gunfire, Eevee slapped swords with his tail, Ash ducked lightning and Gary shook off teeth.

But

Something was wrong.

Glazed over the top of the magic, a slice of Gary's mind was still self-reflective. _Ash and I – I'm trying to take down the League all by myself. Alone._ The sudden shift of perspective from mystic eternity to linear goals sparked a terrible revelation to Gary. _I'm just like Lance._

He was trying to beat the League with his own strength – claim it for his own and shape it in his image. That had been Lance's plan, as it had been Gary's right from the start – but now he wondered; _Is beating the League really what I wanted to do?_

This remanent of an individual mind was probably what suddenly knocked Gary back into awareness and notice that everyone had stopped moving.

Somehow, in the course of thought-annihilating joy, the action had slowed. They were so caught up in the poetry that they were like the cogs of the clock as it winds down, blissfully ignorant even as they finally came to the final halt.

Frightfully aware of his own breathe, Gary opened his eyes. The four of them were in a tableau of battle, like a photograph. Ash was frozen mid-swing, a gentle curl in his lips. Eevee had his paw up, his vicious claws ready to slice flesh. Pikachu was tensed, as though summoning up electricity to dance over his erect fur.

Dazed, Gary straightened, and his movement broke the spell. The others opened their eyes.

"Uh..." Ash uttered, baking up in the afterglow. He hadn't felt like this since his wedding night. "Wow..."

Eevee and Pikachu were bleary-eyed, searched blindly until they saw each other. Matching crazed looks brightened their features, and as though in heat, the dog pounced on the rat with tight energy, desperate to escape again into the glory.

As the two brawled towards the other side of the arena, Ash and Gary gazed levelly into each other's eyes. The Champion was clearly enjoying himself, but Oak was finding it hard not to frown. _Something is wrong..._ But he wasn't sure if he could express it with words.

_Why are we so happy when everyone else is so..._

Wincing, the lithe man straightened and stepped forward. Ash thought Gary was about to resume combat and bent his knees in preparation. But instead of a sword, the Challenger speared forward with one last confession.

"Can I admit something, Ash?"

The Great Kanto Trainer's eyebrow lifted up to the rim of his backwards cap. "Hm?"

"I came back to Kanto to kill you and rule the League as the new Champion."

Smiling as though to a shy child confessing sins that weren't, Ash shook his head. He wouldn't have had it any other way. "No offense, but that was kinda obvious."

Gary's face was stony as he looked down at his beloved foe. "It's different now." _This_ caught Ash's attention, and the questioning look coming up from under his brow had a dangerous edge to it. With a sigh, Gary went on. "What are we? Do we represent something?"

Unsure why his darling enemy had suddenly changed tact, Ash gave it some thought. All the twists and coils of destiny, the unspeakable happiness of batting swords and trading bullets with Gary, the tectonic shifts of emotion, it all reeked of meaning, like there was something more than just them. But what?

"...I don't know." Ash answered in a low voice.

Licking his lips, Gary went on. "I'm sorry, hey? I was greedy, we shouldn't just duel in our little shell-" Here he indicated the cavernous stadium. "-while all these important things are happening outside."

Ash didn't move, which meant he was listening. Gary was uncomfortable with what he was saying, but he had to. "We've been selfish. We both wanted to reach that..." He struggled for the words he was after, staring up at the arena lights like a squadron of moons. "That _place_, that _thing_ we want... but at the same time, we didn't want it at all."

He looked back down at the Champion, whose expression was static. Gary couldn't tell if he was offended or agreeing or what. Oak's mind was filled with all the terrible things that he had seen since returning to Kanto – The death of Mt Moon, the ghosts of Lavender Town, the despair of Saffron, the murder of Celadon, Erika's battered body, the desperation of Lt Surge, Mikey of the EV Team, Lorelei's cold cruelty, Misty's dead sisters, Pallet Town. So much, so much.

Ash may have been the one to cause these horrible things to happen, but it may as well have been Gary's fault too, as he would have done exactly the same thing.

"We twisted our path towards something we loved and pretended we were still climbing to the moon. In reality, we were just playing up our war, our duel."

Bowing his head, Gary realised that his life was a lie. "We were wrong. This isn't about us."

Gary hadn't quite meant to admit all that, and he waited like a school boy who was a little too honest with his headmaster as Ash fixed a laser stare on him. He was chewing through Gary's words even as Gary was. The long man didn't quite understand everything that had just come out of his own mouth. A very thoughtful silence passed between them while their pokémon bartered explosions.

Then, the wall collapsed.

Eevee and Pikachu also paused in their death-match, watching as the rubble fell in pulverising quantities on the plastic seating. Roaring defiantly if tiredly, a badly damaged Onix pushed inside, shielding someone under his heavily-tested body. The figure was also beaten harshly, but even the blood and bruises couldn't hide that face from Ash.

"Brock!" He cried, distracted from Gary's sudden revelation. The brown, hard face of the man who had betrayed him was glaring down. Watching his friend spit out red, Ash's stomach squirmed with grappling emotions – the fact was that this man had waged an obsessive campaign against everything that the Champion had worked to build for years – yet he was still a childhood friend who had nurtured him like a mother.

Gary was irritated at the interruption. He had been on the verge of some profound revelation about both Ash and himself. "Don't you have something else to do, hey?" He shouted up.

"_This _is what I came to do!" Stone-Baron responded, and Gary guessed the large man's eyes were on his old travelling companion. Brock jogged painfully down the aisle, and Onix followed, grinding the chairs and stairs beneath him. Eevee and Pikachu both watched the snake hostilely, neither wanting to surrender exclusive rights to this majestic battle.

As Brock jumped the railing and down into the low stadium, the door through which Ash and Gary had entered was immolated. The new comer was a tall red Hoenn pokémon – a Blaizeken, and his master followed. It was the magical vision of May, with her bandanna around her head and adjusting her gloves. She was splashed with blood. The brunette frowned when she saw Gary had beaten her here, but advanced.

Eyes changing between Brock and May, Ash rocked his mouth.

"Ash, this is for your own good." May said evenly, as a doctor might before inflicting considerable pain.

No answer was forthcoming, as the door to the arena side-entrance was blown from its hinges by a stream of water. Through it emerged two more challengers, a floating Starmie accompanying them.

Gary and Ash's eyes locked immediately to the first of them – it was Misty, looking like she'd crossed hell to get here. Her eyes were tear-dry, and both of the Pallet trainers were clenched with the simultaneous need to run over and hold her, shielding her from the world and all evil, never again to enter into such a miserable state.

The other man had a bit of a beer gut, and though his lank black hair and red headband suggested a laid back personality, the way he held his carbine suggested a war-shivered man. Ash's eyes shook as he recognised another dear friend – Tracey. But wasn't he in the Orange Islands? To think all along he had been here in Kanto!

Seeing Ash and Gary, Tracey tapped Misty's shoulder, and she nodded. She shared a long, indescribable look with the two of them. The woman was visibly shaken by seeing both of the men who had her heart in a tug-of-war in the same place, weapons beared.

"I've got to stop this." She muttered to herself, Tracey politely ignoring her words, but what had to be done? What was it exactly she had to stop?

Others entered, a mix of Celadon Rangers, Kanto revolutionaries, and adventure seekers from all over the world, but they did not receive any look from Ash. He was quiet now that the perfect, timeless feeling he had experienced while fighting with Gary was gone – it had fled when it saw that the Rebellion flowered at last into a coup.

Cornered, without options or an escape, everything looked hopeless for the Chosen One. He was confident he could beat Gary, and confident that he could beat the others, but both at once? Those were impossible odds.

_Impossible odds..._ Ash thought with a tearful smile.

Bowing to Gary, he shocked the other Pallet trainer by grinning that heart-stealing grin. Ash had never received such a beautiful gift.

_Impossible odds__,_ he mused again as he raised his sword and shouted a war cry, Pikachu doing likewise and charging himself with power.

The impossible was what Ash longed for.

-

-

Next Chapter, let's move it along people


	34. Lunar Eclipse 2

**Disclaimer**: Nintendo and 4Kids – my mortal enemies, my eternal foes. Only they possess ownership of Pokémon... only they hold the keys to the future's gate. Hail, Imperator – Hail and goodbye.

**Grasping the Moon**

Chapter 34 – Lunar Eclipse

Part 2

It was all happening down in the centre of the stadium. The amassed troops of the Resistance and its heroes were unable to fully bring their superior numbers to bear against a single man and his small pokémon, letting the highly skilled Champion carve away at the weighty formation of men piece meal. His Pikachu was proving even more difficult to pin down, bringing constant thunderbolts into the tight packs, with every move slaughtering piles of pokémon and their masters to boot. It was an embarrassing affair for the Resistance, when watched from above.

Untwisting his neck, Snap looked away, leaning against the plastic spectator seat. His calm contrasting significantly with the chaos below, the mercenary sucked in the last of his cigarette before tossing it away carelessly.

"Alright," he announced to no one, a cloud of poisonous smoke tumbling from his mouth. "Let's get to it."

Shifting, he turned around in a crouch, nestling his long sniper rifle between two seats. His position up in the spectator seats yielded good cover, especially as the bright over-hanging lights illuminating the central arena intensified the darkness around it. Putting his eye to its natural place against the scope, Snap picked out his precious bounty.

In the circular window through which he viewed the world, Snap soon found the Champion. The dictator was grinning ear to ear and mid-air, running across the faces of two rebels and a Pidgeotto, snapping their noses and beak. Launching off, he spun, in one motion splitting a Ranger's face in two and gunning down a Beedrill that had descended upon him.

Clicking his tongue, Snap noticed that Gary Oak character pursuing desperately, and the ex-Leaguer May moving to intercept. They wouldn't catch him – Ketchum was a blur of speed, cutting paths through the forces enveloping him with inhuman ease.

No good shot was apparent – the sheer amount of unpredictable movement down there made it too hard to pick out a particular target.

_Doesn't matter,_ Snap patiently thought, locking his sights on the murderous Champion as he decimated the Resistance single-handedly. _The chance will come – I'm watching, Champion._

-- --

Mr Mime was an expert with his defensive shielding, and Delia walked unharmed through the palace halls. She drew courage from her faith in Mimey's ability to protect her, but she still jumped whenever a bullet glanced off the purple shell that hovered around the pair.

The battle was largely over – very few League soldiers were still fighting, most either dead or with hands behind their heads. She received many strange looks from Rebels as she passed, but only the occasional Celadon Ranger attempted anything. They quickly gave up when Mimey's barriers proved impenetrable.

Heaped through the halls in thick quantities were the dead. Mrs Ketchum stared with horror down at the blood and torn corpses, rubbed her hands in front of her chest nervously. "Oh my..." she would repeat, the flashbacks to her youth sometimes bordering on over-powering. "Oh my..."

She was not familiar with the layout of the Indigo Palace, and wasn't precisely sure where she needed to go. All she knew was that she wanted to see her son.

Aimlessly tracing the halls, eyes brushing along the scenes of devastation and trying hard to ignore the conquering Resisters doing terrible things to their prisoners, Delia passed a door blown from its hinges, and from inside she could hear the distinct sound of war. She paused at the entrance.

Tight with concern for his dear mistress, Mr Mime looked up forcefully. Swallowing, Mrs Ketchum glanced down at then clown then into door.

"Perhaps..." she hesitated, listening to the battle. Walking into a gunfight was not something she really wished to do, but that is where Ash would be. "Perhaps we should try in here..."

Her foolish-looking pokémon was not happy, but he could never refuse anything she asked. "Miime..." he conceded in his high voice, staying by her side, broom pointed forward and hand maintaining their force field.

Through the door was a huge hollowed-out space, rimmed with seating. A part of the wall had been blown away, a splash of rubble leading down into the grassy arena in the centre. Men and pokémon were everywhere, shouting and shooting their guns wildly, the crowd washing around like some huge game of tag.

Even though she was so high, Delia looked down and saw a particular speck among all the other indistinguishable specks and knew in her mother's heart that it was Ash. She ran down the steps, Mr Mime forcing himself to keep up, until she could see more clearly. It was Ash, and he was fighting.

"Oh Ash..." she said to herself, flattening a hand against her neck. Tears were in her eyes. "You're... magnificent."

He was. He looked so much like his father in battle – not just the amazing athletic feats and the shows of incredible strength, but the glow of the great, distinguishing him from the rest of humanity as special, different, chosen. Lance had the same shine – seeing that stern man fight like a demi-god had been what had caused her to fall in love with him to begin with.

But Ash was brighter still, burning more than any star, like the moon itself. He'd gambled everything and lost, stretched himself out to burst the borders of his potential, thrown himself into certain doom, and done it all with a smile on his face. What mother wouldn't feel her heart bloom when she saw her son happy?

"You should see him now Lancey..." she whispered, not noticing her pokémon frown at the name. Delia just knew that her husband would be so proud to see how his son had grown up.

But... Delia could see the men left in her son's wake, turned with simple actions to broken corpses. Cut in half, faces removed by lead; every step Ash took resulted in a thousand squashed bodies of lesser men. Other mother's sons.

Looking at the dead, killed by her own child, Delia's merry heart grew uncertain. Putting her fingers to her lips, she found she could only watch as Ash massacred those who came against him, leaning on the rail and guarded by Mr Mime's trusty barriers.

-- --

_I wasn't ready_, Gary realised with humbling shock as he gaped openly while Ash kicked a man so hard his skull popped from the spine and sliced another two heads from shoulders in one motion. Without pausing, the Great Kanto Trainer leapt clean over the falling bodies and shoved his rifle into the eye-socket of a Graveller, blowing away its brains. _How could I ever have been ready?_

Ash killed left and right, ceaselessly and without any apparent effort, like a bored conductor bobbing his rod for an imagined orchestra. The Champion sprinted boldly into the battle royale, like he knew ahead of time that the path of bullets would never intersect with his. Even with all the elite trainers in the field of battle, he was totally untouchable. Ash was practically humming with joy, surfing on the cusp of destiny.

"This is such _Tauros-crap..._" Gary muttered through his teeth, his arrogance cracking and breaking apart like an iceberg. Of the perhaps one hundred Resistance regulars – not including their pokémon – who had shown up, Ash had already diced twenty, not to mention the damage Pikachu had done. When they duelled earlier on, Oak had been fighting at full-force, but Ash had only been in his lower gears. All those years of _hell_ and he _still_ wasn't a match for Ash?

"I won't accept it." He declared, watching for a moment to attack. Misty was charging in conjunction with her twirling Starmie.

Having run through a trainer and shot the dead man's Hariyama through the eyes, Ash didn't realise his wife was upon him until the last moment. Her steel mallet skimmed his dark cape as the Chosen One jumped back. Unphased, with her lower lip sucked back in concentration, Misty lifted her hammer to strike again, this time with Starmie.

Snagging the many-pronged star between its arms as it swept in to slice him, Ketchum jerked the water pokémon around to be his shield, intercepting the cracking might of its mistress' weapon.

Frustrating his love's assault, Ash retreated away from her, only to have Gary come at him from behind. Watching the Champion coil in a slick action around the outside of his longsword, Gary crossed his rifle over his arm and squeeze the trigger, hoping to break fate's protection and blow holes in his oldest rival's chest.

Adjusting his grip on his own gun, Ash rolled his M-16 around his fingers, the butt of the weapon lightly dashing the barrel of Gary's AK-47 off-aim. Seeing the shorter man try and withdraw as the bullets were wasted, Gary narrowed his eyes.

"I'm not done yet!" He growled, twisting savagely and flicking a pole-bending kick into Ketchum's midsection. The Chosen One caught the attack on his knee, the most defensive move he'd had to make since the melee begun.

Spinning further, Gary wound up a second kick, at Ash's face. To his surprise, Ash bounced off the ground, receiving the blow and pushing off it, using the extra power to launch himself through the air. As he back-flipped neatly through the inverse rain of gunfire, the dark-haired bastard waved to Gary before disappearing into another cloud of soldiers to kill.

Misty, who had been coming up to strike Ash from behind, stumbled into Gary instead. He steadied her, and they looked for a way to reengage. There was no time to blush and stutter. Misty's Starmie wobbled in the air, shaken by its own trainer's strength.

"Did you _know_ he was this good?" Gary asked in a rage, his grinding teeth absorbing some of the venom. Misty frowned after her husband.

"He wasn't." She explained shortly. "He's rising to the challenge."

"This is insane." A new voice put in. It was Tracey, loosely holding his carbine as if he knew it was worthless – fate would never allow a shot to hit. "He's so in control he's avoided killing anyone he knows."

Unwilling to give up just yet, Gary tapped his colleagues with the pommel of his sword. Not five minutes ago he had announced it had been selfish to fight one on one when there were bigger things at stake, but he never actually thought that it was _necessary_ to have help fighting Ash. "I'll go dead on, you two flank him."

They all nodded and pushed through the press of men to surround their friend.

-- --

Even though he was particularly vulnerable to Pikachu's element, Misty's Gyrados did not recoil in fear from the battle. However, he was also fighting for space with Brock's battered Onix, the two giants unable to coordinate properly to use their considerable size against he relatively tiny rat. The problem was compounded by the cloud of ambitious pokémon all trying to get a slice of the famed poster-pokémon of the League.

In their hearts they knew the League would never truly be defeated until the thunder-mouse was dead. However, this last hurdle proved more difficult to scale than the others.

_There!_ Gyrados caught a dash of yellow, and Pikachu cleanly dissected a Rhydon's head with his iron tail. Three of May's pokémon were upon him in an instant – Blaizeken powering down the middle, Skitty coiling around the left flank with a grin and Beautifly swooping in from the high right.

Pikachu was not about to meet such a well-rehearsed attack pattern head on, and burst backwards – where Gyrados was waiting for him.

"GAAAR!" The sea-wyrm roared, a flood of intense, brute energy erupting from his gaping mouth in searing white power. Pikachu, tumbling in the air, unrolled a shimmering screen of light, glancing the hyper beam off course, blowing away a gaggle of Gyrados' ineffectual allies.

Onix leaped in from Pikachu's other side like a skimming stone, roaring in triumph. Unshaken, Pikachu swung around his shield – but not towards the rock snake.

A brown blur, crowned with white light, rocketed at tearing speed through the air, and Pikachu ricocheted the living projectile back into the Onix. With a flinching crack, the brown missile – Eevee in the middle of a lethal head butt – splashed stone fragments from Onix' already tested hide, sending the badly beaten pokémon into unconsciousness.

Eevee hardly paused after smashing his cranium against a body of solid rock.

"Vee!" He sniffed, turning to spring again at Pikachu, but the falling rat was sown with electricity.

"CHUU!" A drill of lightning drove into Eevee, who sheathed himself in a purple shield, letting the energy break over him. Onix' earthen body was unharmed, but the wildly spraying thunder warded off Gyrados and struck May's Beautifly badly, grounding the insect.

Pikachu's descent to the ground ended, and he was immediately set upon from all sides by lesser pokémon. Misty's water types knew well enough to keep a distance, but the less wise were keen to throw hits in.

Sighing, the rat hammered his skull into a Dugtrio, caving in the three-fold pokemon's centre head, and fried the flesh of several fighting-types trying to out box him. Pikachu calmly sparked viciously, keeping his attackers at bay and burning away some of the grass.

A roar shivered the ground. "GARROUUR!" Gyrados cried, unfurling his massive tail directly on top of Pikachu's position – knocking out another swathe of his incompetent 'allies'. The scorched earth buckled, but even as the blue scales pressed the stadium floor, Pikachu had played escape artist again, now on top of the sea monster's tail. The rat, clinging like static electricity, scurried up the length of Gyrado's body and grabbed firmly to one of the fin's from under the water pokémon's jaw.

Pulling his weight, Pikachu wrenched the mighty ocean-beast off balance, causing Gyrados to collapse on more of the Resistance pokémon. Yellow fur stiffening, an intense glare swallowed the thunder-mouse's eyes as he prepared to wash Gyrados with untold volts of energy.

"Ken!" Saving the water-type at the last moment, Blaizeken jacked a heavy, burning short uppercut into the rat's ribs. Pikachu went flying and was intercepted mid-air by Eevee.

While the rivals battered each other in descent, Blaizeken check up on Gyrados. "Blaize?"

"Grrrooor..." The sea wyrm muttered in response, grudgingly thankful. Pulling himself back upright, Gyrados turned his eyes to Eevee and Pikchu shred the ground with their paws. Blaizeken spared a quick glance to see if anyone was dead.

A loose shadow ball tore passed, and it was only an artful back flip by Blaizeken that saved the tall firebird.

_This is ridiculous..._ Gyrados commented internally, peering closely in search of some path through the net of wild lightning spindling out from Pikachu's soft body. _It's like we're fighting the League all over again. Or..._ He thought with a furious roar. _This was the real League all along._

-- --

No particular person was thinking it. Its source couldn't be traced back to any single person, but somewhere in the attempted lynching of Ash Ketchem, threaded through the jostling feet, laced around the flying bullets, and tied over the ever-piling corpses, a memory slowly was knit. Like a fluttering blanket, it would occasionally flap at the back of minds of those shooting and fighting and dying, lifted up on the wind of war.

This memory drifted at the back of every mind, almost invisible, a subtle backdrop to the more pressing matter of shooting the Champion in the face while avoiding his reaping weapons. Lost in the chaos, the bizarre psychic phenomenon of shared consciousness occurred.

A vision conjured by the melee, a whispering revelation...

_Ash and Misty were on a date. He had just returned from another great adventure doing something magical and heroic, and,__ after pausing at Pallet for a day to share with his mother and the aging Professor Oak, Ash came directly to Cerulean. It was never certain whether it would be a couple of days or months before the young Champion would be called away again to defeat an fiendish experiment of mad science or recover an ancient artefact or whatever the call of the day was. Therefore, the couple would spend as much time as possible with each other while they could._

_Dumping Brock to slobber over Misty's sisters and leaving Pikachu to baby-sit the Pewter Gym-Leader, they went to a restaurant/bar by the beach for the evening. It wasn't going well. _

Damn it,_ Misty thought privately as she stared at her younger boyfriend. He was staring off into the distance, not even looking at her. His responsiveness to conversation tonight was on par with Psyduck. Groaning, she rubbed at her eyes – negotiating her responsibilities at Cerulean Gym with his constant questing made time together hard to find. _ He could at least take advantage of the situation and _talk_ to me!

_Someone bumped against the back of Misty's head and muttered an apology, and it took restraint on Misty's part not to shout back. The bar was crowd to the brim, the noise and human press smothering any sense of intimacy that may have held the lovers._

_Slitting her teeth against each other, the Cerulean Gym-Leader glanced around for a clock on the wall. The food was late – very late. The jug of water on their table was empty and didn't have a hope of being refilled by a waiter anytime soon._

_Closing her eyes and counting to five, Misty decided to re-attempt conversation with the spaced-out Ash Ketchem. _No other way to pass the time.

"_So, how was Hoenn?" She inquired. Ash didn't even turn his eyes to her._

"_Hn." Was the response._

_Grimacing, Misty began to tear at her paper napkin. "At least look me in the eyes..." She grumbled under audible range. Glancing down at her dress, she wondered if she wasn't looking her best._

_Misty had some time ago purchased a shimmering blue dress to wow Mr. Ketchem the next time they were able to go out together. Unfortunately she seemed to have put on some weight between then and now, ending up tearing the garment in her frustrated attempts to pull it up past her narrow hips. Knowing that Ash would be upset if she was even fifteen seconds late, she had been forced desperately into this old yellow sundress._

_But anything was better than nothing, especially in the case of clothing. "Do you like my dress?" She asked._

_Ash answered before looking. "Yeah, you look great." Suddenly realising more was expected of him, he rolled a gloved hand in search of words. "It makes you look really... bright."_

_Her expression sufficiently convinced the boy that he could have worded the compliment better, but it was still a step up._

_Trying to bring her boyfriend out of his shell, Misty deployed all the points of conversation that normally had him gushing with oblivious passion – pokémon training, tales of adventure, and, somewhat surprisingly, world politics. She even pulled out the ace – the latest news on Gary Oak's pokémon journey. But not even word of his eternal rival engaged Ash._

_Exasperated, she leaned back in her chair in defeat, watching as__ a waiter _finally_ forced his way through the crowd with her poached Remorraid. _

_Ash prodded his own fish while avoiding Misty's aqua eyes, and she wondered what had gotten into him. She didn't need _another_ pressure on their relationship – the conflicting timetables and long periods between visits were bad enough, but then there was May being a pain, the possibility of Ash dying in some forsaken hell-hole, and her sisters laughing at her the whole time. _And now I'm apparently too boring to notice...

_Sighing, Misty pierced her food with her fork. _Maybe it would be better just to stop seeing each other... _She figured, her heart weakening._

-- --

May was unsure how positive her contribution to this fight was. Flipping around her Resistance allies as though gravity was hesitant to press down on her pretty shoulders, the Elite-Second drew many distracted looks (if she was generous, they were enthralled by her acrobatics, if she was cynical, her shapely rear-end). These undisciplined eyes often caused the head they sat in to be divided from the neck by the Champion's blade.

_Can't think about it now!_ She scolded herself, putting aside the issue of whether she was responsible for those deaths as she stepped around a flying skull. _End it quickly, end it before things get worse!_

Circling around Ash's ecstatic form, May sprung and coiled through the surge of weaklings who stepped forward only to die. Having long trained with the Great Kanto Trainer, she knew that she was no match for him in a direct confrontation. Besides, approaching too close would expose her to the waves of gunfire washing over Ketchum – not that any of it could even graze him. The brunette kept her distance.

"I'm going to save you." She promised under her breath. "Save you from _this_."

Ash may have been grinning broadly, face alight with brimming joy, but through the blood and bullets that image was grotesque. He had handed the entirety of himself, body and soul, over to something – some mad delight in murder and conquest and perpetual war. To May's eyes, he was like a marionette on strings – imprisoned in constant motion.

On the other side of the slaughter-zone extending around the Chosen One, May noticed Brock's brown form, and somewhere left of her she thought she snatched a glimpse of Misty's orange hair. Now was a good time to move.

Bringing up her steel discus, Heart-Taker bobbed the weapon timing the precise moment. With a flick, the circlet was flying, dashing off a young Hoenn kid's rifle (probably saving his life as he scooted back in shock) and tearing towards Ash from an awkward angle.

Without even the courtesy to look surprised, the Great Kanto Trainer poked his black katana through the hollow centre of the weapon, spinning it like a hula around his sword as resumed bashing people with his M-16 as though nothing had happened. May was both stunned and furious.

"Hey!" She cried indignantly. There was enough of a smirk on Ash's face to suggest he heard her.

Several bullets skimmed over his cheeks, but he didn't even flinch. Kicking a dead Tentacool into an advancing Ranger and sticking his sword mockingly in the air, the Champion twisted and drove the butt of his rifle non-lethally into Brock's gut. Stone-Baron had attempted to get his old friend into a hold from behind, but now sagged to his knees like a wet teabag, not even his legendary toughness enough to resist Ash's power.

Barging through the ring of rebels, Ash led the pursuing gunfire into his foes, causing the soldiers to fall from friendly fire. Having stayed her distance, May was shielded by several bodies.

Passing by his former subordinate and present friend, Ash tilted his sword so that May's discus slid off into her waiting hands. She flared her nose after the Champion as he pushed through the crowd, leaving a corpse every time his foot touched the ground.

"Show off..." she muttered, watching the Chosen One pirouette around Misty as the redhead tried to land her metal hammer on him, giving his wife a playful pat on the backside before moving on.

-- --

_The food was crumby – overpriced and overcooked. Relieved to have an excuse to leave the table, Misty rammed back her white chair –__ injuring the knee of man pressed behind her, no doubt – and dragged her wallflower date out to the veranda. She ignored the DJ, reasoning that Ash would likely be as much fun on the dance floor as across the dinner table._

_Outside on the deck was a bit more spacious, and without the pressure of a squeezing crowd, the thin girl could breathe and think a little easier._

_Her mind turned to the earlier consideration of breaking the relationship off._ I'm probably being unreasonable, _she figured on balance. _I mean, it's just one bad date – something's probably on his mind.

_As the couple leaned on the white painted railing at the edge of the sand, Misty's imagination engaged. Had something happened to his mother? No, Brock would have been out of it too. Something further afield? Ash had mentioned growing concern that the various cities making up the Kanto League might all move for autonomy in the near future..._

_Darker thoughts hemmed in her mind when she looked down at Ash's face as he stared distantly over the ocean as though trying to gauge its depth with his eye. Perhaps his mind was on a certain brown-haired bimbo? That May girl became disgustingly more attractive every time Misty saw her. Or maybe _he _was thinking of breaking up with _her?

_Misty's heart shrunk, recoiling in terror at the thought. _I couldn't blame him if he wanted to, _she said to herself, her head drooping. She leaned forward heavily on the wooden banister. _There are plenty of more attractive girls after him, and he's probably thinking I'm too old for him – the novelty's probably wearing off.

_Rubbing harshly at her shoulder, her thoughts became more depressing._ He's become so attractive and successful, and I'm so ugly and dumb and sporty and clingy and –

_With a sudden self-fury, she pushed upright and slapped her cheeks. "Don't do this to yourself!" She demanded in a low voice._

_The movement and noise attracted Ash's attention, but he hadn't picked up any of what had occurred. She looked into his shifting brown eyes and steeled herself. _Don't keep guessing, just ask him! _ Captain Misty's-Inner-Voice ordered._

_Snapping off a sharp internal salute, Misty rounded on her boyfriend and jabbed a finger into his wonderfully muscular chest._

"_Just what the hell is wrong with you tonight, Mister Ketchum?!" She growled. 'Ask' for Misty often acted as a synonym for 'demand'._

_Avoiding her glare, Ash scratched at the back of his head, and Misty realised her finger was pinching white silk. Her boyfriend was wearing a nice shirt and slacks and hadn't even complained all night__! He wasn't even wearing a cap! With narrowed eyes, Misty tried to perceive his game._

"_Uh..." Ash said, his raspy voice full of saliva. He glanced down the beach. "Let's go for a walk." He dodged._

_Pulling Misty after him with his frustratingly/gloriously large muscles, the couple was intercepted by a photographer, apparently employed by the cafe to pester people even further. Though beaming at the two of them, he was quite rude and suggestive. When he offered to take their picture, Ash barely acknowledged the man and waved him away._

_Dragged by, Misty stared at the poor man as he lowered his camera, his expression obviously wounded. He had red hair flowing off either flank of his head and smoker's teeth. There was something familiar about him..._

_Forgotten was the spurned photographer as Ash led Misty by the cashier to pay, then down the steps onto the beach._

_Taking Misty to the beach was a stock move on Ash's part. The trip would either end in fun as they went swimming, feeling out the shape of the tides and ocean floor carelessly, or in romance as they strolled the shore hand in hand, Misty's feet in the lapping waves and Ash's pressing the loose sand into shape. It wasn't a bad move _per se_, just predictable._

_Waiting for Ash to unlace his black sneakers, Misty stared out along the sand and, beach-lover though she was, wouldn't have called it a pretty sight. Seaweed gunked up the sand and secreted its burning stench, and there wasn't a pokémon in sight. Clouds smeared the night sky, hinting at rain half-heartedly. Sighing, she slipped out of her footwear as her boyfriend tore off his last sock._

"_Are you going to answer my question now?"_

_Ash laughed nervously and scratched at his mess of hair, doubtless missing his cap-of-the-month. Observing this behaviour, Misty knew that he wanted something – it would explain why he was (attempting to) butter her up with a night out at a terrible cafe and an evening walk along the beach._

_Strangely, the League Champion didn't say anything, and they walked silently, each using one hand to carry their shoes and clasping the spares. Misty skewered her aqua gaze into Ash's face, watching for a sign as to what he was thinking._

"_Terrible place, huh?" Finally spoke up Ash with a probing chuckle._

"_Yes." Misty stated flatly, thinking of the cafe/restaurant she would never visit again. Picking up on her icy tone, Ash dropped this line of conversation. Visibly making a decision, he started with another._

"_I hate my father." He said from nowhere, finally opening up._

_Physically restrain a groan, Misty pinched the bridge of her nose, bumping the soles of her shoes against her lips. Just when the night started to look like it would change for the better – this! Tonight was meant to be light and relaxing, to celebrate the breaking of a long drought of time together. She did _not_ need angst just now!_

_The young champion was going on. "He never really set me a good example for how to... be with a woman." He explained hesitatingly, trying to find the words as though the very concept of being in a relationship was alien. Misty lowered the shoes from her face painfully – if this was only causing him problems _now_ what were the last two years for him, then?_

_Taking a deep breathe, Ash went on. "I'm not–"_

"_Don't do this to yourself." Misty__ cut him off, echoing the words she earlier said to herself. She didn't want him ruining the night further. "You've got issues? Think of me – I've got no parents and the sensational tart trio for sisters." She shrugged a shoulder and smiled. "I don't know the first thing about being a good girlfriend."_

_Her pokémon trainer was looking away in despair, which was not __the reaction Misty wanted. She tossed her shoes onto the sand a pulled his face towards her. He didn't resist._

"_You're doing great." She emphasised kindly, cutting straight to her point and punctuating it by leaning down and kissing him quickly on the lips. "Best boyfriend I've ever had." She added with a wink, both knowing full well he was the first boyfriend she'd ever had._

_Ash tried hard to remain grim, but couldn't help a small smirk. Seeing it, Misty released him, kissing the space between his eyebrows as she straightened up._

"_Well," Ash responded, his voice uncertain. "That makes me feel a little more confident about this, I guess..."_

_Breaking their held hands, he took a box from his pocket and dropped to a knee._

-- --

Ash was getting faster and his blows harder. Misty watched in despair as her husband transformed in the speed – the cape trailing every move like Golbat wings, the bill of his reversed cap jutting out like a broad horn, and his open friendly grin melting into a Gengar's mad cracked smile. His forearms ended in whirlpools that spit out death and gore. Gunfire now seemed to openly fear approaching him. The sturdy legs that had walked him the length of the continent as a boy were now stomping corpses into the ground.

Pikachu was changing too – moving so fast that he was invisible. The pokémon futilely assaulting the rat could only glance around desperately at the slicing gale around them until in a flash a yellow figure would appear above them for that final split second. Then a thunderbolt would fall upon the victim, as though dropped from God's own finger.

Only the occasional interference by Eevee, flashing in a brown angel, would intercept the lightning mouse and spare one of the weaker pokémon.

Brock could see things coming apart at this unexpected juncture – the rank and file had thinned significantly. Most were dead, others had fled in terror from this _thing_ they had mistaken for a man. There was a corpse every half-a-meter, feeding the grass their blood, but the stadium was so large that it didn't seem filled – it could consume so many more dead.

Gary was doing the best he could, being the only one who could trade blows at all with Ash; the others would try and take advantage of the Champion's distraction. It never worked out, as Ash would act with skill beyond perfect into the supernatural, easily escaping any trap.

_How could we possibly be losing _now_? _ Brock asked himself, his previous injuries aching in time with his new ones. _His League is gone, it's just him and his pokémon._ Brock stared at those eyes that had sparkled with youthful ambition at the thought of becoming a pokémon master, which now noticed May's incoming foot and the butt of Tracey's carbine, batting both of them away easily. _What is he?_

A Ranger with enough lingering hurt over Celadon to substitute for courage came up by Brock and levelled his rifle. Aiming carefully, the soldier took a shot, and unlike any of the other bullets fired in this farce of a battle, this one seemed to be on target.

Reacting to the shout of the gun, Ash spun suddenly, sword up. The few standing Resistance fighters gaped open-mouthed as the bullet caught on the hilt and whizzed around it, deflected away safely.

"Did..." Brock stuttered, barely believing his own squinting eyes. "Did he just knock a gunshot from the air?"

The Champion didn't even pause, pointing his M-16 and firing on the Ranger. There was only a click. Surprised that he was out, Ash threw his katana, impaling the man who fired on him. Brock sprung away from the dead body as it fell.

Seeing the Great Kanto Trainer suddenly weaponless, what remained of the crowd rushed boldly. Still smiling, Ash kicked out May's feet as she flipped towards him and plucked an empty pokéball from his pocket. With the same hands that had hugged his friends and presented Misty with a ring, he pegged the ball into the face of Resistance veteran, breaking the man's nose and crumpling him.

"Damn it!" May cursed, her face falling painfully on the grass.

Fist high, Brock went to drive it into the back of Ash's skull. The Chosen One turned at the last second, tossing a magazine at his old friend. Stunned, Stone-Baron caught the ammunition, and was thus defenceless when Ketchum coiled by him, wrapping Brock's face with his black cape.

"Gah!" The larger man gasped through the fabric, curved painfully backwards by Ash's shorter height. He dropped the bullets to pull at his bonds; Ash's gloved hand shooting under his armpit to catch his ammo before it hit the ground. Hiding in the small of Brock's back, the Champion used the ex-Pewter Gym-Leader as cover while he reloaded his rifle.

Tracey found Ash's sword pinning the dead Ranger to the grass. Pulling the black blade from the green cloak, the Watcher charged Ash, being on the correct side of the Brock-barricade. His sword-fighting was far from first-class, far less than Ash or Gary's but...

Clipping the magazine into place, Ash saw his Orange-Islander friend delivering his katana back to him. With an appreciative smile on the mouth that had shouted 'never give up' countless times, he unhooked the dark fabric from around his neck and went to meet his artistic buddy.

"Brock!" Misty called in alarm, watching the Resistance Leader collapse on the ground. She hurried over and pulled the cape that Ash put over her as a towel only a week ago from Brock's face, and then helped her darker friend to his feet. They watched Tracey take a brave swipe at Ash.

By some complicated motion that Tracey wouldn't have been able to follow if he had seen a slow motion replay, the chubby man was stumbling _passed_ the Champion, empty-handed. Staggered, he looked back to see Ash touch the blunt edge of the sword to his temple in cheery salute before ducking under a high-calibre blast from Gary's assault rifle.

Touching his red headband and his dirty black hair, the Watcher stepped away humbly as Oak re-engaged Ash brutally. Outshined rage bubbling up through the lithe warrior's face, and Tracey knew better than to bother looking for his carbine.

"My god..." Misty muttered, miserably watching her husband, trying not to acknowledge how amazing he was.

Brock coughed up blood, weighing heavily on Misty's shoulder. The damage from both Jasmine and Ash's blows was catching up to him. He hadn't been this badly beaten since... well, ever.

"I never..." Brock forced out roughly. Misty leaned in to hear better, but her eyes couldn't leave Ash fight circles around Gary, in whom she had placed all her hope. "I never guessed it would end like this."

Tracey came to their side, having removed his headband to twist nervously, but May led the last handful of resisters to try and encircle Ash again. Elsewhere, Pikachu kicked and knocked out Blaizeken, and then washed Skitty and Eevee away in a train of electricity.

"Honestly..." Boulder-King said, starting to feel his resolve to fight slipping. "I didn't think this would end with such a bang."

-- --

_The whole night was retroactively perfect. Horrible food, jostling conditions, everything was swallowed up in the purifying light of __Ash's proposal._

_She had pounced on Ash the second he'd popped the question, sending him into the sand with lips like knockout punches, and he stayed there staring up at the Cerulean Gym-Leader in open wonder. __After a good thirty minutes squealing and messaging everyone she'd ever met in the last five years with her pokégear (Misty made sure to inform May five times), Misty had finally settled down into a state of unearthly contentment. _

_Restraining herself to human volume primarily from a need for oxygen then from any real calm, she dropped down onto beach next to her Champion and squeezed him with her thin arms powerfully. Then she remembered that she had yet to say 'yes'._

"_That's alright." Ash said with a laugh as she apologised and officially accepted the ring. "I kinda got the impression you were going to do it."_

_They lay on the shore, wrapped up in each other's limbs like a sleeping Tentacool, a humming joy trembling in their ribcages. The moon was painting the sea her colour, and Magikarp had started jumping, as though they wanted to touch the night's chief celestial body for themselves._

"_That was the hardest thing I ever had to do." Ash said after a long time._

_Misty found that hard to believe, considering Ash had been breaching other dimensions, tearing down organised crime and back-talking ancient pokémon-gods since he was ten years old. "I suppose all the great things you've done were easy then?"_

_His grin reflecting the moon's rays, Ash waved his head in consideration. "Yeah, but they all felt, I dunno, _natural_. Like I'd overcome it eventually, inevitably." He tore his eyes from the moon and looking into Misty's blue-green irises. Unable to control himself, he kissed her eyes. "But I didn't know if you'd say 'yes'."_

_No response came to Misty's mind, so she put her lips to his instead. Nestling her head back into his neck, she joined her fiancé staring back into the moon._

_The history of their courtship rolled through her memory, even into its pre-history, and it was also touched with the fairy wand of their upcoming nuptials. All the hardships had a happy ending – like in a children's book. She felt happy about that._

"_It's kinda funny if you think about it."_

_Ash raised his eyebrows. "What is?"_

_Misty laughed to herself and shifted to get closer to her soon-to-be husband's body warmth. "Well, us." She explained. "All that time we acted like we hated each other."_

_Rubbing his cheek against her orange hair, the Champion chuckled. "Ha, yeah. I guess you hurt the ones you love."_

-- --

From his nest in the stadium seating, Snap's patience paid off as the perfect shot slipped into the glass of his scope.

"There!" He shouted and strangled the trigger, grasping the opportunity. The cavern's shape echoed his voice to be as loud and as crushing as his gun's rapport.

Ash was out in the open, nobody in his immediate vicinity to stumble in the way of the all-too valuable first shot. The Champion had killed off his own cover. He spun at the noise, the smile knocked from his cheeks.

Brock, Misty and Tracey flinched at the shocking sound. They gawked wide-eyed as the heavy weight of nothingness lanced into the Champion. May stumbled and fell on her backside.

From her position at the steel rails, Delia wailed in shock, her hand grabbing her mouth. Mr Mime started forward at the gunshot.

Gary's world crumbled.

Everyone saw pink.

-

-

Next Chapter, let's move it along


	35. Lunar Eclipse 3

**Disclaimer**: Nintendo and 4Kids – my mortal enemies, my eternal foes. Only they possess ownership of Pokémon... only they hold the keys to the future's gate. Hail, Imperator – Hail and goodbye.

**Grasping the Moon**

Chapter 35 – Lunar Eclipse

Part 3

Supported by the titanic strength of his mind, Mewtwo hovered in the empty sky, dancing his puppet Giovanni in a mob meeting miles away. In the distance, Indigo Plateau was ringed with a speckled crowd of wild pokémon staring up at the machinations of fate as they played out above them. The world would change depending on the outcome of this war.

His piercing purple eyes stared through the smoking battlefield atop of Indigo Plateau to the stadium at its centre. The feline genetic experiment's thick brow twitched at the gun shot.

Even he was momentarily caught unaware, and stared with paralysed marvel at the aftermath of the sniper's surprise attack. He was so consumed that he had noticed that Giovanni's corpse had frozen too, to the confusion of Team Aqua and Magmar's Bosses.

Slowly, a chuckle spiralled up the monster's thin throat, and then burst through his tiny mouth. Giovanni did likewise, the two rival bosses glancing at each other.

Mentally, words were thrown out into the void around him for no one to hear, though Mewtwo could care less. "You magnificent, beautiful _bastard_!"

-- --

The entirety of the vision of Ash's left eye was filled with one image – a thick, pointed shell of lead, peered at through the veil of pink shimmering crystals. The psychic net had caught the bullet just millimetres – millimetres! – from the orb's moist, reflective surface.

Lungs kicking open the way for breathe, the Champion started to hyperventilate. Shaken, he took a quaking step backwards, away from the shot that had almost ended his life. _Dead. Without drama, significance or glory. Dead._

Putting distance between himself and that hell-born metal, Ash finally had the perspective see what had ensnared everyone else's attention. A small pokémon was circling loosely in front of the psychic screen – pink, with large hind legs and a long tail.

"Mew..." Ash whispered, recognising the legend. "That's Mew..."

Up in the grandstands, someone swore. Eyes blinking and weak, Ash sought the voice's source, finding it in a sniper with a striped shirt and red hair in the darkness. He was fishing out more bullets. Mew's aura flashed pink and the man's rifle was shredded in his hands.

"Snap?" The Champion said, peering at the shocked man. "But I thought..."

Not matter how hard Ash tried to cling onto the line of thought, the shock was too great. _Dead. I could have been dead right now. This close..._

The spell snapped, and Misty hoisted Brock onto Tracey's shoulders and ran forward.

"Ash!" She and Gary shouted at the same time, and stopped as they both stared at each other for reacting simultaneously.

"Pika-pi!" Pikachu cried, appearing in a flash at his master's feet, scampering around in a circle to stare up from every angle, checking for injury or a way to help.

Eyes lifting from his fussing pokémon, Ash's gaze wandered, looking again at the people around him. May was the first he saw, on the ground, her eyes on him and almost crying with honest affection. _My friends... why am I fighting my friends? _

Then there were all the dead bodies. There were so many, human and pokémon alike, laid out a gruesome spectacle. A few more inches from that bullet and Ash would have been one of them, just the same. No more League, no more glory, no more battling, no more moon. There was no moon in hell, for the destiny of corpses was common – to rot.

Something shook his clothes, and Ash looked down again, seeing his hands shake. He was shivering, it was suddenly so cold.

Mew drifted around the Champion curiously, staring with childish eyes as the weapons dropped from Ash's hands like children's toys and he bent over and began rubbing his arms desperately. _I... don't feel anything._ He said to himself as his teeth chattered. Pikachu was yelping something up at him, but he was distant, far off, like everything else. _I feel everything. Why do I feel like this?_

This shouldn't be happening. Being miraculously saved at the last moment from certain death – even from beyond death – was a matter of course for the Chosen One. Why couldn't he stop shaking?

Eyes roving, he saw Brock, propped up awkwardly by good ole Tracey. The large man's eyes were as unreadable as ever, and it had been so long since they had seen each other.

"We're friends, right Brock?" Ash asked in a voice too low to be heard by anyone but the League Pokémon. Pikachu went quiet, observing. "Why are we trying to make each other dead?"

The rebels and their pokémon stood around dumb in the silence. Their leaders were frozen, which gave them pause. There was some weird-looking pokémon swimming through the air that looked vaguely familiar – it had appeared from nowhere and saved the mad dictator they were so close to finally defeating forever. It had snatched victory from their hands, but no one seemed to think they should do anything about it. There was no reason _not _to attack, but...

Ash's eyes couldn't focus on any one face. All his friends, from all over the world had gathered here to stop him. Why? Didn't they see what he was trying to do? Ash's brow tightened. _Wait, what am I trying to do again?_

There was Misty. Even beaten, covered in filth and with eyes strained from tears, she was so beautiful. Her sisters were dead. _I did that._ He tried so hard to keep her from another Sea of Blood, but here she was in the middle of another damn war.

Gary was nearby too. The thought of him and Misty... Whatever the thought did to Ash vanished as he stared into those dark eyes. Deep in those twin abysses still laid the promise of ecstatic dissolution – the possibility of murdering each other to murder themselves. That was alright wasn't it? Could something so beautiful be wrong?

"What you said..." Ash said to himself, his teeth clapping. Gary was meeting his gaze, edging his sword forward as though asking if they could resume fighting. "Is it true?"

Of course it was true – this had always been bigger than the two of them. They had been stupid. All these people were dead because of their mad duel. No, because of Ash's pig-headed obliviousness.

"It was a lie." Ash realised, ignoring Pikachu pulling at his jeans with his teeth. He whispered as though Gary would hear him. "Our whole dream was a lie."

Someone sobbed from above, and Ash looked up to see his mother, her psychic clown faithfully at her side. She was crying, staring down at all the people Ash had made dead. His mother knew – she was now privy to all the dirty little secrets he covered up so she could never see. He had made his mother cry.

"Dead..." Ash closed his eyes and squeezed his temple. "All those people dead dead dead..."

Dead dead dead dad dead. Dead. Dad. Dead. Dad.

The face of the dragon, cut cleanly from the body and flying high in the air was tattooed over the inside of the Champion's eyelids. He folded and vomited.

_Save me! Somebody save me!_ He begged in his head as the last of the bile trickled from his mouth. Mew cocked her head, thinking that she had just done that. _Escape!_

He ran. Leaving his weapons behind, he sprinted so fast that he almost at the exit before anyone had a chance to act. The few remaining Resistance troops looked to their leaders, feeling very out of their depth. Gary's heart dropped out as he watched Ash leave him.

"Pika-pi!" The lightning rat was hot on the Champion's feet, ignoring the mass of sorely tested pokémon he had yet to finish off. A small dog shouted after him.

"Vee!" Eevee accused the League Pokémon of cowardice.

In frustration, the dog galloped over to his master and snapped up the leg of his purple pants, tugging Gary to pursue their eternal rivals. To the dog's shock and irritation, his master didn't move.

Misty started after her husband, but stopped, and her eyes joined with Gary's. Licking her lips and tensing her fingers in desperation, she glanced from the door to Pallet's second son. The League was over, and Ash wasn't dead – this was what she wanted. She could go back to that world of childhood adventure and happiness that Gary promised, if she just stayed...

The ring on her finger was so heavy.

"I'm sorry." Misty told him sadly, before taking off after her husband, the tyrant.

Staring, Gary watched the woman – the one whose hold on him had been such as to shift him from his irresistible loyalty to Ash – reject him in favour of that same man. Everything had come to pieces, and Oak's eyes fell downcast to the grass. He didn't move, even as Eevee pulled and bit, even as first May, then the others, set off to catch the escapees.

-- --

Nothing was there to stop Ash as he ran and ran. The halls of his once magnificent League Palace were reduced to the state of ancient ruins. Rubble and devastation and sins and the past strewn all over the ground, the walls scooped out by explosions.

Irrelevant things were reminding him of everything he'd done to come this far. A piece of tile – the long conquests. A wisp of dust – handing Kanto over to thugs and monsters. The sound of his sneaker on the exposed concrete – The gunfire, the sword strokes, the blood.

He was crying so thickly that he could barely see where he was going, but the Chosen One could hardly care if he broke his face running into a wall anymore. It was over – the League, the Dream, Hope – it was all further out of reach than the moon in the night sky now.

Night had come, the full moon climbing up from the horizon to stare in on the Palace and see how Ash was managing the ambitious climb up to it. The Champion figured it would be quite disappointed in him. He could feel its judgement even through the glares which all physical matter was heaping on him.

Ash tripped. As he fell to his knees, Pikachu was in an instant on his shoulder, nuzzling his cheek. The 'Great' Kanto Trainer hadn't even noticed the pokémon following him. He wept bitterly, waiting for his friends to find and kill him.

"I think I'm nuts." He told his dearest pokémon, who cooed softly. No-one else had seen his vision, not even Gary. Everything he had worked towards was gone, a waste. If they had understood, would they have guided him back onto the path before he let all this happen?

He heard running footsteps, and waited for the murderer's death he deserved, but the moment the newcomer grabbed him he knew it was Misty. She hugged him tightly.

There was something wet on Ash's T-shirt – she was crying too. Just like when she had come back from the Sea of Blood. Ash had sworn never to let her become like that again – another broken oath.

None of the three of them noticed the large figure that they were suddenly kneeling before. Shifting forward on his powerful legs, Mewtwo stared down at the Champion, the man of destiny.

_I had not foreseen this,_ the psychic mused. _I suppose there is much about fate I have yet to learn._

Betraying nothing with his large eyes, Mewtwo couldn't help but feel some solidarity with the broken man in front of him. Ash was different from the common human; he had a destiny that he didn't understand and ended up getting so wrong. Mewtwo related to that so... strongly.

Others were coming – and it was doubtful that they would join in this tear-fest. The genetic monstrosity's face shifted. _I need to get these ones away to a refuge._ But Cinnabar Island would never do...

His voice projected clearly into the grief and conflict of their minds. "I know a place."

In a white flash they were gone, and May found nothing but empty halls.

-

-

**Author's Notes:**

Just the epilogue left. SO CLOSE! SO CLOSE!

I felt like some of the writing, especially at important scenes, was a bit mumble-y this time around.

Can you believe I'm actually sick of writing fight scenes? I never thought I'd find writing the bits about character interaction more enjoyable.

Please Read and Review!

**ReadheadtheGirl:** Well, I guess you know how the fight ended now. Not exactly a straight fight to the end though, was it?

Glad you liked that scene with Ash and Gary's reunion; it'd been a long time coming.

**FireHawk038: ** I'm very glad you've enjoyed what I've done with the fic so much! I hope the ending next chapter meets your expectations.


	36. Hardly an Epilogue

**Disclaimer**: Watch to the East – the feign beast rises. A withering call, Nintendo! Nintendo! Wherefore doth the challenge of 4kids go unanswered? Lo! The twin-crown of Pokémon rests only their heads. Fear and despair all, those whose spider-hands dare venture to steal it.

**Grasping the Moon**

Epilogue – Hardly an Epilogue

Misty twisted, loosening her back. Limbered up, she carefully planted her feet and climbed down the rocks until she came close enough to the stream. Kneeling, the Cerulean girl reached out with the first bucket.

"Gotcha." She said with a victorious smile, catching the water. Filling the container, she lifted it with her strong arms and set it on a rock above her before beginning on the next bucket.

As she did so, she looked across the stream to the rocks on the other side. Psyduck was there, hands clamped to the sides of his head and staring at her dumbly over his bill. When Misty noticed him, the yellow duck went wild, thrilled that his master had laid eyes upon him. In his dance of joy, his flippers slipped on the slick rock and he toppled into the water.

Sighing, Misty watched her pokémon carried helplessly downstream. "Hopeless." She muttered to herself. The Water Master was not too fussed about tracking her lost pokémon down – Starmie or Wartortle were on rotating patrol up and down this stream, and would probably pick up their comrade.

Probably.

Rising, Misty carefully hefted the two buckets of water up the rock bank to the grass, the high-altitude air crisp on her exposed skin. The cave was within viewing distance of the stream, and she headed back, preferring the feel of grass on her bare feet to the cutting stones. Charizard was standing guard at the cave's mouth, obviously bored as he scratched at his many scars, but still diligent.

Mewtwo had been unsurprisingly thorough, teleporting Ash and Misty's pokémon along with them. Ash's crew were furious to have been plucked from out of their battles, but their attitudes quickly boomeranged when they saw the state their master had fallen to. Charizard's change was the most pronounced – going from the most terrifying to the best-behaved. Misty still found it strange that the crimson dragon that had been so untameable and war-lustful would become so restrained whenever Ash was in trouble.

"Hi." She said politely as the dragon regarded her coolly, sweeping his burning tail.

Setting the water-buckets by the cave entrance, she peeked inside, but it was too dark. She knew her husband there, though, curled up in a ball with Pikachu mewing at him comfortingly. The redhead would work on him later – first she had to boil the water.

"Right." Misty told herself, setting her mind in order. "Firewood."

That psychic super-power had been far more generous than the Ketchums had any right to expect, even providing survival gear, but as much as Misty loved camping, she did sometimes wish that they were in a cushy safe house or something. All things considered, there was no good cause for complaining – Misty had the distinct impression that if they ran into any trouble with food, the purple giant would appear with plenty of supplies.

Walking in the unkempt grass (somewhat like Ash's hair, she mused) towards the pile of firewood, Misty's eyes drifted over the pine trees to a nearby mountain. Just beyond, perpetually blocked from sight, was her hometown – or rather, its remains. Shaking her head sharply, she forced the memory from mind.

Shuffling leaves seized Misty and Charizard's attention, and they looked down at the shaking shrubbery, expecting a wild Oddish. But it was the stout Ivysaur.

Looking pleasantly on the leafy turtle, Misty wondered why he wasn't patrolling as he normally did. Ivysaur looked at her significantly.

"Ivy-_saur_." He said. The redhead blinked – she hadn't quite learned to understand Ash's pokémon yet. Sparing her a game of charades, the grass-type jerked his head back from where he came.

On cue, the bushes shook, this time by a taller creature. Pushing through the green was a woman, dressed in a tight orange singlet with a black collar. She was wearing a green bandanna, and used it to wipe sweat from her brow with gloved hands.

Misty narrowed her eyes and May smiled awkwardly, waving. "Uh, hi."

-- --

Later, sitting on the rocks overlooking the stream, the two women sat tensely. May drummed her fingers on her well-toned thighs, glancing backward at the cave entrance every so often. Misty observed this suspiciously.

"I guess someone was bound to find us eventually." She said, making the opening move. "You must have been searching pretty diligently."

Chuckling shyly, May rubbed the back of her brown hair. "Ah, well, not so much." She confessed. "But I heard these rumours of a secret Cerulean cave, and I got curious."

Not making an effort to mask her hostility, the taller woman brazenly searched May's face for lies. Slowly, she was convinced.

"You happened to be in the area, huh?" Misty looked down into the water.

"Yeah, sorta." The brunette didn't quite want to broach that topic just yet. She looked over her shoulders again to the cave, where the red dragon was watching her. "Um, how is he?"

Misty observed her previous rival from the corner of her eyes for a moment. "Better." She said, at length. "I've managed to get him to come outside a few times." She didn't mention that she had ordered the pokémon to carry him out.

Face falling, May took this as news that Ash was in very bad condition. She couldn't stop herself looking again. "Oh. Do you think he'll be okay?" the beauty asked in a low voice.

"Of course he will!" Misty declared, deciding to rub it in. "Have a little faith in him – he's Ash Ketchum!" Taking a glance herself, Misty smiled towards their temporary home. "He can overcome anything, even this."

Nodding slowly, May didn't rise to the bait, but instead regarded Misty, the woman she had hated for such a long time. Said woman was unsure why she was even talking to May – but then again, it was getting lonely on this moutain without human contact besides her perpetually silent husband. And she needed news from the world at large.

"So, what's everyone been up to?"

Rubbing her gloves together, May licked her luscious lips. "Well, Brock's been retooling Pewter. Pulled down the Palace of Steel and everything. Your mother-in-law's been staying with him." Misty nodded, and May was strangely uncomfortable with having the redhead hang on her every word. "He started going out with a girl -" The brightening of Misty's face was tangible. "- but she broke it off."

Groaning, Misty rubbed her eyelids. "Geez, that man! It's only been a month!"

Still uncertain of her standing with the thin woman, May giggled hesitantly, and Misty smiled back. They were sharing a laugh? This was so weird...

"We all sorta parted ways," The Elite-Second went on. "There's so much to rebuild."

"You going to return to Hoenn?"

May looked pained. "Probably not – I'm not exactly going to be welcomed back with open arms."

Following carefully, Misty ventured a cautious question. "And what about Gary?"

The tone of the words drew May's eyes. Pandora was running her fingers around the edge of a box she obviously knew she shouldn't open. "Celadon, I think. Rebuilding."

Misty bobbed her head quickly, too scared to press for further details. As her host went quiet, May ran a finger down a bang uncertainly as she decided to attempt her first objective.

"I've met someone." May announced suddenly. Misty jumped.

"Really?" The mood lightened as the Cerulean native realised what that news meant for the two of them vis-a-vis her husband. In a rare moment of insight to the conversation's subtext, the lanky girl realised that May was telling her this to make peace. "That's great! Who is he?" She inquired, crossing her fingers and hoping it wasn't a 'he'.

No one gets _double_-lucky. "You know him – he's Brock's brother." May answered. "Forrest."

Misty was so shocked that she sprung to her feet. "What?" She cried instinctively. "The one with no legs?"

Her hand slapped down over her mouth, wishing she could force the words back inside. May said nothing and stared into the stream, blushing. Slowly, Misty retook her seat, seeing the attractive woman sitting next to her in an entirely new light.

"I wish you both the best." She mentioned in a subdued tone, hoping to amend for her initial outburst.

A silence passed as Misty tried to repair her blown mind and May rallied her courage for objective two.

"I've been helping with the reconstruction effort at Cerulean City." She finally advised. The ex-Cerulean Gym Leader perked up again, looking appreciatively at the Elite Second. Today seemed to be a day of good news for the redhead – maybe Ash would finally have it in him to 'be' with her tonight as well? "It's been going really well."

May could see the wide, glorious smile on Misty's milky-white face, and enjoyed it for as long as she could before she knocked it off the woman's face.

"Listen." May took a long breath of mountain air and tried to stretch out her shoulders again. She dropped the bomb. "They've asked me to be the new Gym Leader there."

A portcullis slammed down with resounding force, Misty's happy face bathed suddenly with darkness. May couldn't meet her eyes.

Mrs. Ketchum could see what was happening here: May wanted permission to take the offer. Misty's first reaction was a total, uncompromising 'NO!' in her mind.

But glancing back to the cave where Charizard's attention had moved from the visiting work colleague, the Water Master had second thoughts. It was not like she could re-inherit the title with things as they were – Ash was a fugitive from the law and she, for all Misty knew, was as well. As little as the swimming trainer liked to face it, there were far worse hands than May's for the Gym to fall into.

Whatsmore, Cerulean City Gym had always been run by beauty queens, why break the tradition? Misty owed it to her sisters not to let the place be run by a runt. It would be a fitting tribute to the Sensational Sisters of Cerulean to hand the Gym over to the most beautiful woman in the world.

Turning a serious face back to the woman they called 'Rose', 'Turner' and 'Heart-Taker', Misty told her: "Sure."

All the stress evaporated from May's shoulders, and she slumped forward in release.

"Ah, great." Rose muttered. "I wanted to check if you were okay with it first."

Misty flexed the corners of her mouth. "Appreciated." She said with absolute honesty.

Her business completed, May stood up, brushing off her perfect behind. She helped Misty to her feet before looking again towards the cave. It seemed so lonesome up here.

"Should I visit again?"

Misty shrugged as she walked May back to the tree line. "You don't have to."

"Should I tell anyone else you're here?" May asked, wanting to help. Her blue eyes went to the cave.

"Better not to risk it."

"Right." May stared into the thick forest she had forced her way through to get here. It was a long journey without a path – no wonder no one ever stumbled across this place. Pulling at the collar of her shirt, May reminded herself that she had promised Forrest that she wouldn't be gone for more than a few days, but...

She looked again to the cave, and Misty waited for the inevitable question.

"Should I see him?"

Misty let a sadness enter her eyes as she looked with May to the dark cavern that encaged the man that they both loved. The redhead weighed up how much good it would do the beauty to see Ash squeezed into a ball by the force of overwhelming guilt, depression and maybe even madness – the way he'd remained for a whole month. To see that great man reduced to a vegetable...

Misty turned and looked directly into May's cobalt eyes.

"No."

Accepting this response without a word, May sought some way to say goodbye properly. Fidgeting for a moment, she stuck out a black-fingered glove.

Mildly shocked, Misty took her hand with a bemused smirk. They shook once, strongly and professionally, before they released each other and May squeezed back through the greenery.

-- --

James kicked in the door, causing the old lady at the counter to jump in surprise. Her five Chatots erupted into frenzied squawks. The foppish man was shoved into the store by his two partners, who slammed the door behind them.

Ignoring the lady at the register shout at them, Jesse pointed and gave orders. "Quick, out the back!"

Persian dashed through the shop, knocking over a stand of pokémon accessories, leaving his human comrades to jump the mess. As they fled into the store room, the old woman proved faster than expected and grabbed James' hand.

"Come on, ya lug!" Persian shouted to the blue-haired pretty boy as Jesse threw her shoulder into the backdoor.

Desperate, James pulled against the storekeeper's grip, letting his black glove slide off as he broke free. He jumped long, rolling out the door into the back alley, which Jesse drove closed behind him.

Pushing up onto his elbow, James dabbed at his thick sweat with his dirty shirt. "Did we lose him?" He asked through gasps.

"Shut up." His female partner growled, punching at the steel door in frustration. Her pokémon belt quivered.

"Wobuf-" Jesse's Wobbuffet shouted with an idiot smile on its blue, bulbous face as it broke free from his ball. She didn't even let the odd pokémon finish before she booted it in the face.

Persian found a fire escape.

"Keep going, keep going!" The cat implored, athletically leaping up to the first floor. Recalling Wobbuffet, his partners scrambled to follow him and retreat over the rooftops.

Since the Kanto League's collapse and the disappearance of its much-feared Champion, the three neighbouring great nations of Johto, Sinnoh and Hoenn had been more than happy to send in 'relief'. This aid took the form of food, materials for restructuring and troops for peace-keeping, but everyone knew it was less an act of philanthropy and more a bid to claim as big as slice out of Kanto as they could while it was still up-for-grabs.

The problem for Team Rocket was that these more stable governments were far less willing to stomach organised crime. This particular trio's world had fallen down around them very quickly – all their bank accounts had been frozen, all their safe houses marked, and even the emergency hot air balloons were all confiscated by the 'police'. Whoever was out to get them was not only smart, he had a lot of insight into the _modus operandi_ of these three.

"I knew it was too good to last!" James whinged, tears pouring down his face as he sprinted along the Viridian roof and leapt for the next. "All of our _money_!" He grieved.

"Shut _up_!" Jesse hissed with increasing animalism, her long hair whipping like a tail as she launched over an alley. She had always been poor, but to have made it and then lost it was so damn _humiliating_.

"Da sub's probably locked down." Persian remarked, thinking aloud while easily making each jump. He was verbally working through their escape options. "But dere's no way dey've got da whole town circled."

"On foot, then." The redhead declared finally, ignoring James' moan. "Once we hit the edge of town, we're in the clear."

Something big and white hurtled through the air and into Persian, the two white furry pokémon tumbling across the concrete of the rood. It was between a sloth and an ape, and pinned the Team Rocket cat brutally with its gangly arms.

James squealed and squeezed his arms to his chest effeminately. Jesse growled and clenched her fist. A man was climbing up a ladder at the side of the building.

He was dressed in a well-made blue suit and would have stood eye-to-hairline over James. There was a badge pinned to the lapel of his jacket identifying him as a member of the Hoenn Relief Corps. This was that man who had started chasing them so persistently just a while ago.

"Well, it's been so long!" He announced with an even voice that was spiced with a subtle tone of amusement. The two standing Team Rocket agents peered at this man and tried to recognise him.

Now close enough to get a good look at his face, the two Rockets noticed that he was vaguely familiar. With his black hair in a sophisticated cut and thick square glasses, the man was somewhat attractive in a nerdy, straight-laced fashion.

"You recognise this jerk, James?"

The fop shook his head vigorously.

"It's okay if you don't recall my face, I understand." The Hoenn native mocked politely. "You were always so focused on Ash's Pikachu. I guess you have an eye for talent after all."

James covered his mouth in shock. "A twerp?"

Grunting, the man's Slaking nodded at Team Rocket, still clenching so tightly to the subdued Persian that the feline couldn't speak. The brutish pokémon seemed to be asking if he should take out the humans too, but nerdy man shook his head with a thankful smile.

Jesse decided to take her chances – he didn't seem so tough. Charging inelegantly, she threw a wide fist. The man expertly side-stepped, tripping her and producing handcuffs in one motion.

As she fell, he clipped the bindings on one wrist, and when she collapsed chest-first onto the concrete, he stepped over her and cuffed her hands behind her back. As she squirmed fiercely, he set a knee firmly on her lower back.

"Unhand me at once!" The Rocket demanded, trying to knock the man off her with her hair alone. "Don't you have any idea how to treat a lady?"

While the temperamental woman ran off her mouth, the Hoenn gentleman turned to smile at her partner. "Max, Petalburg Gym-Leader. Pleasure to meet you again."

Yelping, James threw his arms straight up in surrender.

-- --

Nidoking and Nidoqueen were clearing way the last of the rubble in the immediate vicinity in the fading twilight, hoping to have the block open for construction by the next day. Their work was illuminated by Arcanine's burning mane as the fire dog pulled a pallet of bricks across the cracked road.

"Ar!" He barked, pushing the two stone lizards to leave room for him to leave the materials so they could finish up for the day.

"Gar!" Nidoking threw back aggressively, but the fire dog ignored him while his mate patted his shoulder calmingly.

The Johto aid workers and Celadon Rangers had long since completed their work, returning to the camps to drink and rest. The green-cloaked gym members carried a light mood of camaraderie now that they had traded in their rifles and bows for shovels and picks. Whatever political agendas the men from Johto had, the Rangers were appreciative of the opportunity to re-found their home.

Even this long after the official defeat of the League, survivors were still appearing from the crowding jungles of the Celadon area, keeping Nurse Joy busy. She was happy, though, as the worst she had to deal with was malnutrition rather than the bullet wounds and amputations that had been her daily task in years previous.

Despite this merry atmosphere over the work, the Rangers all stayed clear of one man, and the Johto visitors learned to do likewise.

Remaining in Celadon's burned out husk, Gary lay on the roof of one stone building, having had Blastoise wash away the layer of ash. He lay down and stared at the stars.

"You here Eevee?" He asked. The dog was below at street level, and came when called, jumping up Blastoise's shell and onto the roof. Gary scratched the pokémon behind the ears.

The war hero listened as Nidoking, Nidoqueen and Arcanine finally decided to leave the rest for tomorrow, and went to join Blastoise relax. Scizor, who had never been social, elected to return to his pokéball after all his set objectives had been completed. Gary sighed deeply, exhausted from his day of hard labour.

"A long, hard day, hey?" He asked his hound, whom yapped in confirmation. "This isn't so bad, is it?"

Eevee tightened his brow and looked away. He may have forgiven his master for abandoning the fight of the century, but that didn't mean he'd condone this life of mundanity.

Gary was separated from all his comrades-in-battle. Tracey had gone on a journey to find himself again – and try to make peace with his girlfriend's death. Snap was gone like a puff of cigarette smoke – that sniper was nothing and went to nothing, true to his ideals.

"I suppose I could have gone with Brock to Pewter, or that May girl to Cerulean..." He mused aloud, finding privacy in the dark. Eevee's ears twitched. "But I guess I don't really know them all that well... And I'm not sure if Brock could look at me without thinking of the 'A-word'."

Of course, going with Misty had been impossible. Staring at the night sky, he remembered something she had once asked him.

"_Do you think there are pokémon up there in space?"_ He could hear her ask, her shaken voice wavering with misery shivering through his ears as though she was again next to him on the lake of rubble that had been Mt Moon. _"Do you think they look down on us here and cry?"_

Buffered by several kilometres of cold night air from the distant sounds of laughter around campfires, Gary turned the question again. Whoever up there was watching, did they laugh or cry or both? Why? Was it a hateful laugh, or a sad laugh at human tragedy, or were they chuckling because there was actually, eventually, a happy ending to it all?

"Tsh." Gary scoffed at himself, rubbing his forehead. "This is Tracey's sort of thing."

Eevee gave his master an odd look for talking to himself, but looked back up to the dark sky. There was no moon tonight, after that long run of full moons. But just because they couldn't see it, that didn't mean it wasn't there, ensnaring them all like the world's pokéball.

With a smirk, Gary grabbed his green-versus-yellow ying/yang necklace and lifted it above his head. Squeezing an eye, he fancied the symbol of balance as the moon he couldn't see.

"What a crap moon." He assessed after a moment, pulling and snapping the cord. "I like the real one better."

Breaking the two coiled teardrops into equal parts, he threw the remanent of his dearest trinket into the city's dark remains, ignoring where it landed. Eevee watched all this with surprised eyes.

"Ee?" He asked tenderly, but Oak didn't answer. Settling his hands back underneath his head, the trainer hummed gently.

The last time he'd been star-gazing had been here in Celadon, except that time he'd been joined with some key members of the Resistance. Brock, and Melissa – may she rest in peace – and Tracey. And Misty was there too, telling that story...

Shifting uncomfortably, Gary finally grabbed his dog, which made a noise of surprise. "Ah, I'm such a dumbass." He confided in the pokémon, thinking about that beautiful orange-haired girl. Even after her... choice, she was still a pleasant memory to him.

Eevee's nose twitched. "Vee." He agreed curtly.

He'd been caught between Ash and Misty – that is, caught between the devil and the deep blue sea. Was it any wonder he'd been beaten?

"I can't believe I went through everything and _still_ lost to Ash!" He declared, thinking less of the swords and guns than of that enchanting beanpole girl. Gary was smiling, and it was mostly genuine, as he wrestled playfully with his pokémon.

Eventually the brown pup broke free and retreated a few steps, barking in victory. Throwing up his hands, Gary rolled onto his back and stared up into the night sky where the moon was hidden by the world's shadow.

"That's it, I've decided." He decided, sitting up. Eevee recognised the look of firmness in his features and stiffened his stance at his master's seriousness. "I'm becoming an astronaut."

-

-

**Author's Notes:**

Wow, I wrote that quickly...

IT'S FINISHED! Thank you everyone for enduring until the end!

These notes are going to be long this time around, but considering I just completed a fanfic the _length of a frikkin' novel_, I feel entitled to ramble a bit.

It's true, in the end I'm a pokéshipper. Sorry.

The idea for this story started all the way back in high school (when the earth was still called flat), when I read a fanfic called 'Pokémon Master' by Acey (you can find it in my 'favourite stories' section). Looking back now, that story followed a fairly cliché anime story-line, but I ate it up at the time.

Anyway, after reading it, I wanted to do an epic fighting fic of my own – but I couldn't just rip his off, so I got to thinking about interesting twists I could give it, non-obvious stuff. What if Gary was the 'goodie' and Ash the 'baddie'? And what if the 'baddie' turned out not to be so bad? And what if the mad dictator got the girl in the end? What if there were guns involved, not just sword'n'sorcery weapons? That sort of thing.

So, the idea gestated. It continued to do so for years until, finally, I just said 'screw it, I'm writing this.' And I swore to finish it, since I never actually would get around to finishing projects I started.

That being said, most of the real work actually happened in the actual writing. A lot of the character development was not planned a head of time, but just happened – of particular note was Will and Janine, a relationship I wish I could have done more with. This thing really wrote itself.

Despite the focus remaining largely on the human characters, I felt it would do injustice to _Pokémon_ to not give due credit to the pokémon as characters themselves, so I took pains to give them decent roles, even though it was burdensome story-telling-wise.

With fanfics, you can't really go back and rewrite like with a novel, so here are some things I would do if I had the ability or inclination to edit this monster properly:

- Streamline some of the characters a little bit, make the early characterisations smoother

- Solidify Snap – you could probably see me tie myself up in knots trying to decide whether he knew who Ash was or not.

- Get rid of that 'ghost-detector' from Chapter 4

- More Team Rocket – Jesse, James and Meowth are my favourite characters and they hardly got a showing in this fic! How bizarre is that? (for that matter, change Persian back into Meowth)

- Have more of a view into the rank'n'file of both sides – it felt really aristocratic to only focus on the leadership and the super-elite fighters. What about the common trooper? What did they think?

- A deeper sense of ecology and the whole system of living in Kanto, especially in a war. Most of the fic focussed on how it all related to war, but not so much on the other aspects of the nation. I needed better world-building.

- A more consistent sense of time and space

CONCERNING THE SEQUEL:

I have decided _not_ to start writing it, even though I have half the bloody thing plotted out already. There's no time, and too much to do in my life. It would have involved Sinnoh, Johto and Hoenn, not to mention Teams Aqua, Magmar and Galactic. Lots of familiar faces, plus new ones, including Dawn, Harrison, Max and many more! I particularly wanted to explore May and Forrest's relationship, and reconcile May and Max.

But since I'm not doing it, nyeh.

Instead, imagine the most awesome possible thing you can, and that will be the sequel for you.

If I do take leave of my senses and start writing it, I will add a chapter to the end of this fanfic saying that I started posting it. So if you want to cling to that lingering hope, please place an alert on this fic! (How sneaky am I?)

Please read and review!... wait, I don't need to do that anymore, do I?

All you long time supporters – thank you humbly for your readership!

**RedheadtheGirl:** Thank you for your patronage of my fic! I'm glad the epic-ness was up to standard, I was a little concerned it might fall flat.

As for the memory... I'm not quite sure why I ended up putting that in, it wasn't planned long in advance. I guess I just always enjoyed writing the peaceful scenes more. Juxtaposition? The 'hurt the ones you love' line? More development for Snap? I don't know.

And Mew saving Ash? I guess it was just fate. :D


End file.
